


Fifty Kisses...

by InterstellarBlue (nagi_schwarz), nagi_schwarz



Series: Prompt Fills 2020 [15]
Category: ASTRO (Band), Gundam Wing, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, Weiß Kreuz, 镇魂 | Guardian (TV 2018), 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 50
Words: 34,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25939324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/InterstellarBlue, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: CHECK CHAPTER INDEX FOR SHIPS.melaganposted a list of fifty kisses on DW as writing prompts.I posted a call onTwitterfor a ship and a number.Here are fills, written in order requested.Check individual chapters for warnings.
Relationships: Daniel Jackson/Vala Mal Doran, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Evan Lorne/Rodney McKay, Fujimiya "Aya" Ran/Hidaka Ken, Kim Myungjun | MJ/Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo, Kim Myungjun | MJ/Moon Bin, Kim Myungjun | MJ/Park Jinwoo | Jin Jin, Kim Myungjun | MJ/Park Minhyuk | Rocky, Lan Wangji/Wei Wuxian, Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo/Moon Bin, Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo/Moon Bin/Park Minhyuk | Rocky, Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo/Park Jinwoo | Jin Jin, Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo/Park Minhyuk | Rocky, Moon Bin/Park Minhyuk | Rocky, Moon Bin/Yoon Sanha, Park Jinwoo | Jin Jin/Park Minhyuk | Rocky, Rodney McKay/John Sheppard, Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: Prompt Fills 2020 [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610299
Comments: 175
Kudos: 297





	1. 13. A kiss...discreetly. BinHyuk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bin and Minhyuk on a date in the park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@lovingminhyuk25](https://twitter.com/lovingminhyuk25) on twitter

“I want to kiss you,” Bin said.

He and Minhyuk were sitting under a wide oak tree in the park on a blanket, surrounded by the food Minhyuk had packed for a nice Saturday picnic.

Minhyuk, reaching into the picnic basket, paused. “We’re...in a bit of a public place.”

He darted a look around at the other couples on the grass, some eating, some studying. A couple of kids were throwing a frisbee for a dog. Some older couples were shuffling along the walking paths, holding hands.

“I am prepared to be discreet,” Bin said, unfolding a newspaper.

Minhyuk stared at him. “No one reads the newspaper anymore. If you hold that up, it’ll be like holding up a giant sign that says _look over here, they’re up to something.”_

Bin unfolded the newspaper all the way and held it up so it was shielding both of them from view. “Minhyukie, kiss me.”

Minhyuk hesitated. “Binnie…”

Bin pouted and batted his eyelashes. “Minhyukie, _please?”_

Minhyuk’s heart melted, and he leaned in and closed his eyes.

The kiss was brief but warm, sweet, and with the spring breeze and the blue sky, it was perfect.

If not that discreet.

When Minhyuk pulled back and opened his eyes, Bin was grinning happily, so Minhyuk figured the kiss was worth it, as silly as it was.

Bin set the newspaper aside and helped Minhyuk finish unloading the picnic basket.

They watched a gray-haired couple shuffle past, the man leaning on his walking stick, the woman leaning on his arm.

“I hope we’re together like that when we’re both gray,” Minhyuk said quietly.

Bin smiled again, softly, sweetly, and Minhyuk’s heart fluttered.

The woman said to the man, “It’s nice to see that young people still read the newspaper.”

Bin burst out laughing.


	2. 22. A kiss...in a rush of adrenaline. Chaky.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin helping Minhyuk practice basketball skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [reherareh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reherareh).

Minhyuk took a deep breath, bounced the ball a few times. He could do this. He’d practiced this so many times. He shouldn’t think about this too hard. His body knew what to do. This was just like dancing. Right? Right.

Only Dongmin opposite him suddenly seemed so big. Had he always been so tall and so strong? Yes, he’d always been taller than Minhyuk, but -

But this was how it had been for Dongmin, hadn’t it? When he’d started training. He’d gone from being praised as an athlete to being constantly belittled for being a failure as a dancer. The body he’d always been able to trust, the coordination he’d relied on - it was all a lie.

Minhyuk had always trusted his own grace, coordination, and athleticism - in dance, in wrestling, in soccer.

But not in basketball. Never in basketball.

And just like Bin, for his first role in a major drama (minor role, major drama), his character played basketball.

“Come, on,” Dongmin said. “Just one lay-up, and we’re done.”

All Minhyuk had to do was dribble the ball past Dongmin and shoot a layup and get it into the basket. Dongmin had been patient with him for literally hours, showed him the footwork, even put on music for him to drill to.

But Minhyuk hadn’t succeeded once. Either he’d been unable to get past Dongmin or he’d failed to make the shot at the basket.

So he took a few deep breaths, bounced the ball, and emptied his mind. Counted.

And moved.

And it was like dancing. His feet moved. His body moved. It all flowed. Dongmin lunged toward him. Minhyuk spun past him, still dribbling the ball. Planted. Jumped. Shot.

Nothing but net.

“Yes!” 

Minhyuk cheered and pumped his fists in the air and ran a lap around their half of the court, adrenaline singing through his veins. He’d finally done it.

Dongmin cheered and applauded, and it was the most natural thing in the world for Minhyuk to catch him around the waist as he ran past and reel him in for a kiss.

It wasn’t a quick kiss, one of those awkward mouth-presses like first kisses in dramas.

It was fast and hot and messy, roaming hands and open mouths and twining tongues, but when it was done, Minhyuk’s heart was racing even more, and he pulled back, eyes wide.

“Hyung, I’m sorry, I -”

“Well, you should be, because you’re supposed to ask before you kiss people,” Dongmin said.

Minhyuk ducked his head. “Hyung, please forgive me -”

“You’re forgiven,” Dongmin said, “only because it was a very good kiss, and if you’d waited much longer to kiss me I might have pounced on you, so. Kiss me again, and then maybe we should shower up and go home.”

Minhyuk blinked up at Dongmin, wide-eyed. “Hyung?”

Dongmin reached out and reeled Minhyuk in close. “Did you hear me? Kiss me again. Or was it just a one-time thing? An adrenaline rush? Because if you kiss me again, I promise it’ll definitely be another adrenaline rush, and then -”

Minhyuk kissed him again.

When they parted for breath, Dongmin whispered, “Let’s shower up and get back to the dorm. Quickly.”

Minhyuk nodded, his heart racing all over again.

Dongmin winked and said, “It’ll be faster if we shower together.” And he turned and dashed for the locker room.

Minhyuk ran after him.


	3. 8. A kiss...in secrecy. Binwoo.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin has a secret to tell Bin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [Papillon87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papillon87).

“I have a secret to tell you,” Dongmin said.

He stood in the doorway of the training room, expression very serious.

Bin, who’d been sitting in the middle of the floor stretching out with Minhyuk, looked up.

Minhyuk looked between Bin and Dongmin and promptly popped to his feet and hurried out of the practice room with a quick nod to Dongmin.

At school, Dongmin was his sunbae, but at the company, Dongmin was his hoobae, and the transition could be...awkward.

But then Minhyuk was gone and the door was closed and it was just Dongmin and Bin.

Bin would have been the first to admit that he’d been used to being the chief visual of the trainees before Dongmin showed up, and then Dongmin had arrived, and at least Bin was still a better dancer and singer, but they were the same age and classmates and the trainee manager had asked Bin to help Dongmin catch up, but -

But it had been Bin and Minhyuk against the world for so long, and it was still the two of them against the world, because that was easier, safer, and Dongmin was dangerous.

Bin said, “If you wanted to keep it a secret, maybe you shouldn’t have mentioned it in front of Minhyuk.”

“Minhyuk’s gone now,” Dongmin said. “So I’ll tell you, and I’ll go.”

He looked tense, but then after training he always looked tense, because the instructors always yelled at him for being too slow, too stiff, too awkward, in the wrong place, looking in the wrong direction.

Bin sat up straighter. He said, “I promise not to tell your secret.” Even if he and Dongmin weren’t friends, he wasn’t out to make the other boy’s life extra stressful. 

Dongmin nodded and swallowed hard. He said, “I like you.”

Bin blinked. “Oh. Well. I - I don’t dislike you. Did you want to be friends? Since we’re the same age.”

A bright blush stained Dongmin’s cheeks. He cleared his throat. “I  _ like _ you.”

It was Bin’s turn to blush. “O-oh.”

Dongmin bowed. “I’ll be going now, sunbae.” He headed for the door.

Bin leapt to his feet. “Wait. You can’t just say that and leave.”

Dongmin paused with his hand on the door handle. “I told you my secret. You promised to keep it. What more is there to say? Since you don’t like me back.”

Bin said, “I don’t dislike you.”

Dongmin blinked at him. “You already said that.”

Bin said, “Do you want to kiss me?”

“Of course I do.” Dongmin had a sour twist to his mouth. “Now you’re just making fun of me.” He wrenched the door open.

Bin pushed it closed. “I’m not. I’ll let you kiss me,” he said.

“Just once?” Dongmin laughed, the sound brittle and bitter. “No thanks.”

Bin looked at Dongmin, really looked at him, and saw how tired and stressed out he really was. He reached out, but Dongmin flinched away.

Bin said, “It doesn’t have to be just once.”

“You don’t like me, you just  _ don’t dislike  _ me, so why would you kiss me?” Dongmin crossed his arms over his chest.

“Maybe I have a secret too,” Bin said. “Maybe I’ve been jealous of you and how handsome you are. Maybe I just don’t want to admit how much I like you too.”

Dongmin studied him for a long time. Then he leaned in and closed his eyes.

Bin leaned in and closed his eyes too.

As far as first kisses went, it was a little clumsy. Their noses bumped, and their teeth scraped, but then they reached for each other, steadied each other, and it was like the stars had aligned, warmth and light unfurling between them.

When they parted, Dongmin murmured, “So I like you, and you like me, and now what?”

“Now we have a secret together,” Bin said, “and you can kiss me whenever you want.”

Dongmin smiled. “Whenever I want?”

Bin nodded and smiled back, and Dongmin leaned in to kiss him again.

Fifteen minutes later, breathless and giddy, they pulled open the door and went to fetch their book bags.

Minhyuk, Sanha, Myungjun, and Jinwoo were standing at the door, staring at them.

Minhyuk held out one hand.

Sanha, Myungjun, and Jinwoo handed him money.

“...the hell?” Bin asked.

Minhyuk said, “You have a kiss-bruise on your collarbone. Better cover that up before school tomorrow.” He winked, pocketed the money, and skipped up the stairs.


	4. 25. A kiss...as a ‘yes’. Chaky.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin lost something important and Minhyuk found it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [moonkki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonkki)

Dongmin was boring and predictable. He went to the same places in the same order every day, because he had a comfortable routine. Usually that was a good thing, because if he had to retrace his steps for whatever reason, he knew where he’d been and when. Today, that wasn’t a good thing, because he’d already retraced his steps a thousand times, and he  _ couldn’t find it. _

Dongmin paused outside one of the freshman classrooms and closed his eyes, took a deep breath, replayed the scene over in his head again.

He’d been standing outside his homeroom talking to Moon Bin about the assignment he’d helped Bin with when Bin had seen the note on top of Dongmin’s binder and pounced on it. Read it.

“Is this yours?” Bin had asked. “Or did you confiscate it from another student?” He had grinned. “You know he and I are in the same company.”

So many students at Dongmin’s high school were idol or actor trainees or celebrities. The school was near several companies, so many of the students were trainees at those companies or had even debuted. 

“I know,” Dongmin had said, trying to keep calm. 

Bin had grinned at the note. “I can pass it on to him, if you like. You know he and I have been selected for the same debut team, right?”

Dongmin had finally managed to regain possession of the note, and he’d folded it up and shoved it into his pocket and then -

And then -

“Sunbae?”

Dongmin opened his eyes.

Park Minhyuk stood in front of him, holding a piece of unfolded paper. “Did you write this?”

Dongmin cleared his throat. “What is it?”

Minhyuk turned the paper around, and there it was, the note.

Minhyuk must have come from some kind of schedule, because his hair was carefully styled and he looked too beautiful to be real, like he’d just stepped out of a comic. Girls said that about Dongmin sometimes, but they’d just never paid attention to Minhyuk. Minhyuk was quiet, serious, but when he was onstage performing, he was - 

Dongmin swallowed hard. 

Minhyuk said, “It looks like your handwriting. I’ve seen your handwriting on Bin-hyung’s assignments since you help him with his homework sometimes.”

“Where did you find that?” Dongmin asked.

“Bin-hyung gave it to me, said I might want it,” Minhyuk said.

Dongmin was never helping Moon Bin with his homework ever again.

Minhyuk, to Dongmin’s vast horror, read the note aloud.  _ “‘Park Minhyuk, you are hardworking and talented and also very handsome and charismatic, and I admire you very much. I like you. Do you like me? Check yes or no.’ _ The checkboxes are drawn very neatly. Did you use a ruler?”

Dongmin said nothing and prayed for a hole to open in the ground and swallow him.

Minhyuk raised his eyebrows. “Did you write this note?”

“Ah - yes.”

“Did you mean it?”

“I didn’t mean for you to ever see it. Bin stole it.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“...I did mean it, yes.”

“Do you have a pen?”

Dongmin blinked. “Pardon?”

“A pen,” Minhyuk said. “So I can give you an answer.”

Dongmin patted himself down. He usually carried a couple of pens in his blazer pocket. “Ah - no. Sorry. I don’t.”

Minhyuk hummed thoughtfully. Then he folded the note and tucked it into his pocket. “I suppose, then, I’ll have to find a different way to give you an answer.”

“A simple no will suffice and then I’ll be on my way and we can never speak of this again,” Dongmin said, the words tumbling out of him. He felt heat rise in his cheeks. He was probably as red as a tomato.

Minhyuk leaned up on his toes and pressed a brief kiss on Dongmin’s cheek. “The answer is yes,” he said. 

“O-oh.”

Minhyuk said, “This is the part where you kiss me back.”

Dongmin nodded and leaned down.

Half an hour later, he headed back to his homeroom, clutching his phone to his chest (he had Minhyuk’s number saved now, plus a note in his calendar for their Day One, plus a couple selca), and promised himself he’d help Moon Bin with his homework for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, with a [sequel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25621885/chapters/65783116).


	5. 5. A kiss...where it doesn’t hurt. Myungcha.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myungjun is very tired after a long and busy day and Dongmin tries to help him feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [jeontly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeontly).

Dongmin stepped out of his bedroom and padded toward the kitchen for a glass of water and paused when he heard a faint groan. It took him a second to realize that the mess of blankets and clothes on the sofa was actually Myungjun sprawled face down amidst the nest of blankets that Sanha had abandoned after his video game marathon.

Dongmin crossed the den and knelt beside him. “Hyung, are you all right?”

Myungjun opened one eye. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” Dongmin asked.

“Everything you do.” Myungjun closed his eye and seemed to collapse further into the sofa. “We have comeback promotions. I’m doing the musical. I’m also doing this trot thing. Do you know we have to learn an entire choreo and three-song medley in a week? For an actual performance?”

“We used to learn four new performances a week as trainees,” Dongmin said. “Remember iTeen Rising Star? And some of us were still students at the time.”

“Yeah, but did any of us have to dance in heels? I don’t think so.” Myungjun made an attempt to reach down and massage his own calf but gave up, his arm dangling over the side of the couch.

Dongmin reached up and rubbed carefully, searching for the knot. “Where does it hurt?”

Myungjun groaned again. “You mean where  _ doesn’t _ it hurt.”

“Where doesn’t it hurt?” 

Myungjun made a thoughtful humming noise, and Dongmin could only listen in sympathy. He knew full well how it felt to be so bone-tired, not just physically but mentally.

“I don’t know. My lips are tired from smiling so much. My eyeballs are tired. My  _ brain _ is tired. Quite possibly the only part of me that isn’t tired is my nose.”

Dongmin leaned in and dropped a kiss on the tip of Myungjun’s nose.

Myungjun opened his eyes briefly, raised his eyebrows. Then his eyes drifted close again. “Also maybe...my earlobes.”

Dongmin laughed softly. “You’re very smart and sneaky, Kim Myungjun, but you must also be very tired indeed if you thought you could trick me.”

Myungjun opened his eyes again. “Trick you? I would never.” But his ears were very sensitive and Dongmin nibbling on his ears always turned him on.

Dongmin managed to snake an arm under Myungjun’s belly and help him sit up. “Come on. Go take a hot shower and get ready for bed. I was about to get a drink of water and go to sleep.”

“And then what?” Myungjun asked.

“And then I’ll give you a really nice rubdown so more parts of you don’t hurt, hm?” Dongmin said, and a smile blossomed on Myungjun’s face.

He leaned up on his toes and whispered, “My heart never hurts when I’m with you.” Then he kissed Dongmin on the mouth and took off for the shower with surprising speed.

Dongmin went to fetch himself a glass of water and find the bottle of massage oil. He’d do anything he could so his precious Myungjun never hurt again.


	6. 7. A kiss...to shut them up. Binhyuk.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bin gets back to the dorms late after helping Dongmin in the practice room, but Minhyuk isn't jealous. He's not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@Shreyabiswal1](https://twitter.com/Shreyabiswal1) on Twitter.

Bin stepped into the dorm and toed off his shoes and slumped against the wall for a second, exhausted.

“Where have you been?”

Bin lifted his head.

Minhyuk sat in the middle of the couch, cross-legged, staring right at him.

“At the practice room helping Dongmin with this week’s choreo.”

Minhyuk glanced at the clock on the wall, not even one of those sarcastic glances at an invisible watch on his wrist. “It’s really late.”

“Manager told me to do it,” Bin protested.

“You promised to meet me for dinner,” Minhyuk said.

Bin sighed and sagged against the wall further. “Dongmin’s really struggling and we all know it. If we want to debut, we have to prove we can work as a team. You helped me when I first started, and look how good I am now. Imagine how good Dongmin will be if we help him, and then if he debuts on a team with us, we’ll be unstoppable.”

Minhyuk stared at him for a long moment, then looked away, arms crossed over his chest.

He was definitely sulking.

“Minhyukie, c’mon.” Bin slid down the wall and dragged his knees up against his chest. “Dongmin also just transferred schools to be a trainee, and he’s having a hard time making friends. He and I are in the same grade.”

Minhyuk said, “I’m new as a freshman this year and have just changed schools too.”

Bin stared at him. “You - you’re _jealous.”_

“I’m not,” Minyuk said. “But you promised to eat with me, and you didn’t show up and you didn’t call or text.”

Bin dragged a hand through his hair. “You sound like a jealous girlfriend.”

“I do not.”

Bin groaned and hauled himself to his feet, stumbled across the den, and plopped himself on the couch beside Minhyuk. “You do.”

Minhyuk looked away from him. “Well, I’m not your girlfriend, and I’m not even your _friend_ these days because you spend all your time with _Dongmin -”_

Bin kissed him.

When he pulled back, Minhyuk was staring at him, eyes wide.

“You could never be my girlfriend, because you’re not a girl,” Bin said, “but maybe you could be my boyfriend, hm?”

For a moment, Bin thought he’d succeeded in rendering Minhyuk speechless, but then Minhyuk was crawling into his lap, peppering with him with kisses as words spilled out of him. 

“I was going to confess to you today. That was why I asked you to meet me. I had flowers and your favorite food and a stuffed animal and _everything,_ but you never showed up and then -”

Bin buried his hands in Minhyuk’s hair and dragged him close for a long, slow, deep kiss.

When Bin finally had to pull back to catch his breath, Minhyuk said,

“The flowers wilted and I ate all the food but I still have the stuffed animal.”

Wow. Had Minhyuk been hanging around Sanha and Myungjun too often? He usually didn’t talk so much.

Minhyuk reached over the edge of the couch and came up with a stuffed animal, held it out. “Here.”

Bin stared at it. “It’s - what is it? Is it a dog or a cat?”

Minhyuk’s expression turned wounded. “It’s a puppy cat. It’s adorable, just like you. Don’t you like it?” He held it up and waggled it, pouting, and he was the one who was adorable. “Because when you smile you look like a puppy, but when you’re serious you look like a cat, and -”

“Since when do you talk so much? People say you’re the quiet one for a reason.”

“I waited for you for hours,” Minhyuk said. “At the restaurant. I drank a lot of green tea. A lot.”

He blinked rapidly. 

Bin leaned in and kissed him again before he could start talking more. Green tea was caffeinated. Minhyuk had a lot of energy he needed to burn. And now they had a lot of fun new ways to burn energy. 

Minhyuk hummed happily into the kiss and Bin kissed him harder.

“Thanks for waiting for so long,” he murmured.

Minhyuk said, “I was going to wait up all night if that was what it took.”

Bin said, “You don’t have to wait any more,” and kissed him again.


	7. 3. A kiss...as a goodbye. Chaky.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin has a hard time saying farewell when he goes to enlist. It's harder for Minhyuk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [rainysleeping](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainysleeping).

Dongmin stood just outside the gate, duffel bag at his feet. With his shorn hair and casual clothes and bare face, he was probably unrecognizable. That he’d been dropped off at the gate by his mother, father, and younger brother and wasn’t with his teammates or staff probably made him even more anonymous.

He’d had beef dinner with his family the night before, slept at his parents’ house. He’d had drinks and a big meal with his teammates the night before that, stayed up late cleaning out his room at the dorm (that Jinwoo had been more than eager to take over).

And now it was time for him to go and face this down. He’d put it off till the last possible moment. He wasn’t alone in that. Plenty of other young men in his line of work did the same thing.

He wasn’t the only one who’d been dropped off by his family, not the only one whose mother had clung to him sobbing before his father managed to extricate him as gently as possible. He was the only one who was still waiting after parents and girlfriends had finished their farewells.

He checked his watch, trying not to shiver, because it was late spring but still cold, and he’d always been extra-sensitive to the cold.

“Your girl still not here?” one guy had asked, tone sympathetic.

“Waiting for my friends,” Dongmin had said.

The guy had looked skeptical and then drifted through the gate to report in, enlistment orders in hand.

Half an hour till Dongmin had to report in.

And then a car came screeching around the corner.

Oh hell. They’d let Sanha drive.

The car jerked to a stop at the sidewalk, and Dongmin’s teammates spilled out.

“We brought gifts,” Myungjun exclaimed, tripping up the sidewalk. He pressed a canvas shopping bag into Dongmin’s hand. “Signed posters from all the girl groups I know, plus some signed photocards for bartering. That’ll smooth the way over with the guys in the barracks. Trust me.”

“And some snacks,” Jinwoo added, holding up another bag.

“Don’t worry,” Sanha said. “Once you get out of basic you can call us and text us and stuff. It’ll be fine. It was fine for my brothers and your younger brother too. It was fine for Myungjun-hyung and Jinwoo-hyung -”

Bin crushed Dongmin in a hug. “Take care of yourself. We’ll be a phone call away.”

Dongmin nodded.

“You’ve got this,” Jinwoo said. “Really, it won’t be much worse than being a trainee.”

“Really,” Myungjun added. He beamed.

Jinwoo started crying. Myungjun started crying. Bin started ugly crying. Sanha sniffled. Only Minhyuk hung back, holding all the supplies, stoic.

“Were we this bad when you two enlisted?” Dongmin asked, blinking back tears himself, but the others were crying too hard to respond.

In the end it was Sanha who pulled himself together enough to rally the others to let Dongmin go.

“You don’t want to be late,” Myungjun said, and Dongmin nodded.

Then the others glanced at Minhyuk, and Jinwoo said, “We’ll give you a moment.”

And the four of them retreated to the car.

“I’ll wait for you,” Minhyuk said.

Dongmin shook his head. “It’s two years. We’ll be different people after. You should live your life and be happy. And afterward, you’ll enlist, and then -”

“I’ll wait for you,” Minhyuk said again.

Dongmin sighed. 

Minhyuk’s eyes were wide, solemn. “Dongminnie -”

Dongmin pulled him in and kissed him, long and slow and deep. He couldn’t bring himself to say it, but he couldn’t walk away without  _ something. _

Finally, they parted.

Minhyuk’s dark eyes were bright with unshed tears.

Dongmin glanced at his watch. “I have to go. I can’t be late.”

Minhyuk nodded.

“Don’t wait,” Dongmin said, and picked up his bag, and headed for the gate.

When he looked over his shoulder, Minhyuk was still standing on the sidewalk. Sanha’s car idled behind him.

Dongmin squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and strode to the guardhouse, held out the papers with his enlistment orders.

“Lee Dongmin?” the guard asked, checking his computer.

Dongmin resisted the urge to look back. He said, “Yes.”

The guard said, “Right on time.”

Dongmin looked back.

Minhyuk was still standing there.

Myungjun and Jinwoo stood on either side of him, trying to guide him back into the car.

Dongmin mouthed,  _ Goodbye. _


	8. 50. A kiss...out of love. JinCha.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin has catalogued all of Jinwoo's kisses and discovered one that's just for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [minhyuk022523](https://twitter.com/minhyuk022523) on Twitter.

They kissed each other more often than most groups of friends, the six of them. Half the time it was a game, trying to annoy each other. Was Jinwoo being serious and trying to talk to the camera for fans? Minhyuk was sneaking up close and getting ready to plant one on his cheek or ear. Was Minhyuk singing and vibing and having a good time with the camera for the fans? Bin pecked him on the ear just to watch him freeze and make a face. 

Sometimes kisses were kindness, a kiss on the cheek as a birthday greeting.

Sometimes kisses were fanservice, like during a Vlive.

Jinwoo read a comment. “Give a kiss, please?”

Myungjun pecked him on the cheek.

“No, not like that,” Sanha said. “To the camera for the fans.”

Myungjun just beamed. Jinwoo sighed with much long-suffering.

Sometimes kisses were accidental, like during games (which were fanservice, so they were sort of accidentally-on-purpose, though none of them actually  _ liked _ hearing Sanha’s high-pitched shrieks whenever an accidental kiss occurred during a paper kiss game or a pepero game or something else).

But then there were the little kisses Dongmin noticed that Jinwoo gave out sometimes, a faint brush of the lips against someone’s forehead when they said they didn’t feel well - checking their temperature - or against the back of their head just to say hello.

Dongmin noticed all the different ways they kissed each other - a brief peck, a big wet smack, a long melodramatic press - and could tell when his teammates, friends, brothers meant teasing, affection, or comfort.

And then Dongmin noticed that Jinwoo had one more kiss, just for him. It was often at the end of a long day after Dongmin had had a separate schedule from the others, just a brief press of lips against Dongmin’s shoulder - because Jinwoo was the shortest of them all - as he went by, an upgrade from a comforting shoulder squeeze. Dongmin figured it meant  _ you worked hard today, you can rest now, _ and he liked it. But sometimes Jinwoo would turn his head and press his lips against Dongmin’s shoulder while they were hanging out and watching a movie late at night, after a day when they’d all been lazy, and Dongmin thought maybe it meant  _ thanks for being my teammate and friend. _

Jinwoo never offered Dongmin that kiss when anyone else was around; it only happened in the privacy of the dorm or hotel rooms when they were on tour, and one time in a dressing room on a rare occasion when no other staff had been around.

Given how often the others clowned around with each other, affectionate and in each other’s space, getting handsy with each other, wrestling and tickling and making kissy faces at each other, there was no reason Jinwoo couldn’t kiss Dongmin where others might see.

And then one day, while they were out filming for a variety show, strolling through a market, Dongmin was distracted by a cute little toddler smiling and waving at him, and he smiled and waved back until the little girl’s mother noticed and scooped her up, cast him an apologetic look. She tucked the girl against her hip and then turned away, back to her husband, who looked down at her and smiled at her.

And she smiled up at him and pressed her lips briefly to his shoulder, and Dongmin felt something in his chest unlock, open up, become light and free.

Later that evening, after a very long day of filming, Dongmin and his teammates were back in the dorm, half-heartedly squabbling over whether to watch a movie or a drama or play video games, what to order in for a late-night snack, and whose turn it was to pay.

Dongmin was curled on the love seat, a book in hand, since he had no hard opinion on what their entertainment should be, when Jinwoo sat down beside him, notebook in hand. He was composing again. He looked adorable with a pen tucked behind his ear.

Jinwoo settled in close and turned his head, pressed a ghost of a kiss to Dongmin’s shoulder.

Dongmin said, “I love you too.”

Jinwoo paused and blinked. Then he smiled and snuggled in closer, head on Dongmin’s shoulder, and started to write.


	9. 14. A kiss...casually. MyungBin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myungjun kisses Bin casually.
> 
> So everyone has to kiss everyone else casually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@ricchan_0114](https://twitter.com/ricchan_0114) on Twitter.

The worst thing about reality shows was the constant stress of walking the fine line between being  _ natural _ and  _ themselves _ and maintaining their appropriate image as idols. The second worst thing was nasty surprises, like random missions.

And hideously early wakeup calls.

Bin remembered the reality show they’d done predebut, how the PD team had burst into the dorm and woken them suddenly and cruelly, and slow Sanha and seemingly slow but actually merciful and kind leader Jinwoo and been left behind while rest of them were driven to the shop in the van to get made up for the day.

So when their manager warned them that their new reality show started soon and would start suddenly, Bin did his best to be on alert. Would it be a surprise mission while they were in the middle of a schedule? Would it be a surprise mission while they were in the practice room?

Of course it was a hideous wake up call. 

After Jinwoo, Bin was the team’s notorious sleepyhead, but these days, with how busy Myungjun was, he was exhausted all the time fit to rival Dongmin. While Myungjun was a naturally energetic person, he was not naturally a morning person, so when the front door of the apartment burst open and an alarm went off, he was not one of the first to respond. Dongmin and Minhyuk were the first to respond, Dongmin because he was already awake, Minhyuk because he was a light sleeper and thought someone had broken in. 

The reality show PDs looked pleased for two seconds when they saw how bright and cheerful and fashionable Dongmin looked, then alarmed when Minhyuk, wearing a fuzzy headband, brandished a wok at them, threatening to call the police till Dongmin talked him down. 

Bin and Sanha, alerted by the noise, arrived on the scene next, Sanha cuddling his kitten protectively, which the PDs cooed over. 

And then Myungjun stumbled out of the room he shared with Minhyuk and Sanha, blinking myopically. He’d come home long after Bin had gone to bed, his schedule running late because he’d come from filming on location for his trot show far away.

“Is it time to go already? I didn’t hear my alarm go off.”

“We’re starting our reality show,” Dongmin said. 

“Oh, okay.” Myungjun squinted at one of the male PDs and said, “Good morning, Manager.”

The PD nodded and bowed, confused. 

Myungjun shuffled over to Bin and kissed him briefly on the lips. “Good morning, babe.” And then he shuffled on into the kitchen for an iced coffee from the fridge to wake himself up. 

There was a brief pause while the PDs stared at Bin, then at Myungjun. Did that really just happen? Did it mean what they thought it meant? 

Only Dongmin leaned over and kissed Minhyuk on the cheek and said, casually, “Good morning, dongsaeng.”

“Good morning, hyung,” Minhyuk said with minimal awkwardness, and went into the kitchen to put the wok back. 

When Jinwoo finally peeled himself out of his bunk, Sanha greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a bright  _ good morning, leader-hyung,  _ which just made Jinwoo roll his eyes drowsily before he bowed at the PDs and then made a beeline for the bathroom. 

For the rest of the day, everyone kept up the ruse, kissing each other on the cheek casually here and there, if someone departed for or returned from a solo schedule or even just a while apart from the others during a photo shoot. 

It also became a bit of a game, to see who could kiss who, since Sanha and Minhyuk were notorious for disliking being kissed. 

The PDs ate it up. Manager figured it was them being silly and rolled his eyes. 

At the end of the day, long after the camera crew was gone, Bin and Myungjun curled up on the couch together. Bin pressed a kiss to Myungjun’s hair. 

“I missed you,” he said. 

“We were together pretty much all day,” Myungjun said. 

“Yeah, but we never got any time alone.” 

Myungjun turned and kissed the corner of Bin’s mouth absently. As much as Bin loved making out with Myungjun, long, slow kisses that turned longer and hotter and wilder, he liked these easy, casual kisses best. 

“It’s just us now.”

Bin smiled and kissed him again, just on the tip of his nose to make him giggle. 

“By the way, what was up with everyone kissing each other today?” Myungjun asked. 

“You kissed me today in front of the camera crew,” Bin said. 

Myungjun blinked. “What?”

“Yeah. The others improvised to cover for us.”

_ “What?” _

Bin nodded. 

Myungjun smiled. “Our teammates are such good souls. They support us so much.” 

“We’d better be more careful tomorrow, though.”

“Of course.”

“So give me as many kisses as you can tonight,” Bin said.

Myungjun nodded. “As many as I can.” 


	10. 44. A kiss...out of lust. Binwoo.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bin didn't warn Dongmin. Dongmin had to find out on Twitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [trashbinu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashbinu/pseuds/trashbinu).

The front door flew open.

Dongmin kicked off his shoes and marched across the den toward Bin.  _ “You.” _

Bin was sprawled on the couch, reading webtoons on his phone. “Me?” he asked, startled.

Dongmin’s gaze was practically shooting sparks. “I had to find out from Twitter.” He jabbed furiously at his phone, then shoved it under Bin’s nose for him to see.

Bin scanned Dongmin’s Twitter feed, then looked up at him, smirked. “So?”

“So?” Dongmin spluttered. “You could have given me some warning.”

“Why should I have?”

Myungjun and Jinwoo looked at each other. When Dongmin’s short fuse got the better of him, Jinwoo took over as Dad and Myungjun took over as Mom.

“Let’s go,” Jinwoo said, grabbing Sanha and Minhyuk each by the arm and towing them to the door.

“What? Why?” Sanha protested.

“We don’t have to,” Minhyuk said, but Myungjun rounded up caps and masks and sunglasses and shepherded them all over to the door, made sure they put on their shoes, and then it was just Bin and Dongmin alone in the apartment, Dongmin’s phone between them.

“You should have given me some kind of warning,” Dongmin said. “Do you know how difficult it’s been for me all day? I was innocently scrolling through my Twitter feed during a break in filming and there you were, in those leather pants -”

“I posed with a very cute dog,” Bin said.

“In  _ leather pants,” _ Dongmin said again. “You know what leather pants do to me.”

Bin did know. He’d found out firsthand back when they were trainees and he’d had to wear leather pants for one of their Rising Star performances at Lotte World.

Dongmin tossed his phone aside. “You deliberately didn’t mention it, right? Because you wanted to make me crazy.”

“Hardly,” Bin said, maintaining an innocent expression. “We’re all so busy, it’s hard to keep track of what everyone does. It’s a miracle the fans can keep up with it all - Sanha’s OST, Myungjun’s OST, your new CF -”

Dongmin climbed into Bin’s lap and silenced him with a kiss, hot and filthy, open-mouthed, hands roaming. “Shut up,” he said, pausing to gasp for breath. “I’ve wanted you for  _ hours.” _

“Oh yeah?” Bin raised an eyebrow, slid his hands up Dongmin’s shirt. “How much do you want me?”

Dongmin kissed him again. 


	11. 9. A kiss...in public. Chaky.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin does the traditional lock and wish atop Namsan Tower. With Minhyuk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [reherareh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reherareh).

“Cha Eunwoo,” Reporter Jung said, “do you have a comment about the rumors of a dating scandal regarding you and your lovely costar on your current romance drama?”

Dongmin turned to her. She had a microphone and a recorder and a cameraman with her.

“You’re not exactly playing fair, are you? Catching me without my manager or any of my staff present. I don’t have a schedule today. Today is my day off.”

“And yet here you are, at Namsan Tower, one of the most romantic spots in all of Seoul. And is that a lock you’re holding?” Reporter Jung’s eyes glinted.

Dongmin held up the heart-shaped lock. It was ornate silver filigree, the finest he’d been able to find. “You’re very observant,” he said.

“Just a comment. Off the record,” Report Jung said.

Dongmin looked her up and down. He said, “Completely off the record, or I’ll tell Reporter Im at the Daily Herald that you revealed your source for the schoolyard bully story.”

Reporter Jung blinked. Then she signaled to her cameraman, who lowered his camera. Dongmin waited till he saw the red light on the camera wink off. Reporter Jung switched off her recorder and tucked it and her microphone into her purse, crossed her arms over her chest with a sour expression. “I won’t ask how you know that.”

Dongmin smiled sweetly. “Everyone forgets that before I became a trainee I had the grades to become a doctor or a prosecutor or a judge. I always do my homework. So, everything from here on out is off the record and  _ stays _ off the record. Right?”

“Right,” Reporter Jung said.

“I’m not dating my costar,” he said. “We had dinner a few times. I was comforting her because her boyfriend cheated on her. That’s all.”

“So  _ she _ has a boyfriend? Who?”

Dongmin said, “That wasn’t part of our deal.”

Reporter Jung’s sour expression returned. Then she said, “So what’s the lock for?”

“Here, I finished writing our wish.” Minhyuk came bounding up the steps. He held out a piece of heavy, expensive linen card. On it, he’d written, as neatly as he could, his wish for them as a couple.

Reporter Jung sighed. “Oh. Some kind of team exercise? Hope Astro wins a Grammy?”

“Not at all,” Dongmin said. “Remember, everything is off the record.”

“I remember,” Reporter Jung said, sounding bored.

Dongmin accepted the card, read it quietly. Then he smiled at Minhyuk, who was eyeing Reporter Jung and her cameraman warily. 

“It’s perfect,” Dongmin said. He affixed the card to the lock, then handed it to Minhyuk. “Let me take your picture.”

He took a picture of Minhyuk holding the lock, then of both their hands as they affixed the lock to the fence. Then he held his phone out to Reporter Jung.

“Will you take this last picture?”

“Sure,” she said, still unimpressed. “On three. One, two, three, kimchi.”

Only Dongmin pulled Minhyuk into a kiss. 

Reporter Jung swore.

Dongmin pulled back and looked at her innocently. “Did my phone not work?”

Reporter Jung gaped at him.

Dongmin wrapped his arms around Minhyuk’s waist and held him close. “Or are you ready to try again?”

“Dongminnie,” Minhyuk murmured against his ear, “you’re so cruel. Also, people will be staring soon.”

“No, your phone is fine,” Reporter Jung said. “O-on three.”

Minhyuk leaned up on his toes, and Dongmin smiled down at him.

“Love you,” Dongmin whispered, and kissed him.

It was their first kiss on top of Namsan Tower, but Dongmin would make sure it wasn’t their last.


	12. 49. A kiss...out of necessity. Binhyuk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bin thinks he needs Minhyuk to kiss him. He's wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [dancegodrocky](https://twitter.com/dancegodrocky) on Twitter.

“I need you to kiss me,” Bin said. 

Minhyuk raised his eyebrows. “You  _ need _ me to kiss you?”

Bin nodded and darted a glance at his sister and her friends. Sua had her arms crossed over her chest and was tapping her foot impatiently.

Minhyuk, who had his taekwondo gym bag over his shoulder, looked unimpressed. “What, is this like something out of fanfiction? You’ve been cursed, and if you don’t kiss someone, you’ll die?”

“What? No,” Bin said.

One of Sua’s friends laughed, startled.

Sua said, “You read fanfiction?”

Minhyuk drawled, “Maybe I write it.” He looked up at Bin. “So why do you need me to kiss you?”

“So I can prove to my sister that I like boys,” Bin said.

“How does me kissing you prove that you like boys? It’s not like Sua has ever kissed a boy. People know who they like long before they kiss anyone,” Minhyuk said.

“How do you know that I’ve never kissed a boy?” Sua demanded, all impatience gone.

“Also,” Minhyuk said, “people kiss people they don’t like all the time - on a dare, to fit in, whatever. Seeing how you kissed Eunbi that one time.”

Bin’s face turned bright red. “How do you know that?”

“I know everything that goes on in this school.” Minhyuk tilted his head. “So unless you can come up with a decent reason for me to kiss you, I’ll be on my way.”

He jammed his hands into his pockets and started toward the bus stop.

It occurred to Bin that accosting him on the sidewalk in front of the school and demanding a kiss out of desperation was probably a pretty terrible move.

Bin said, “Well - I like boys, and I like you, and we should date, and isn’t kissing part of the whole confession thing? Like, not in dramas, but in real life.”

Minhyuk paused, turned. Then he prowled closer to Bin, right up in his personal space, and Bin fell back a step, and since when were Minhyuk’s eyes so dark and intense? Because Bin had always thought he was handsome and talented, and he had always wondered what it would be like, to date Minhyuk, but -

“I do need to kiss you now,” Minhyuk said.

Bin swallowed hard and felt his heart start to pound. “Oh yeah? Why?”

“To see if your confession was sincere,” Minhyuk said. “Stand still, Moon Bin.”

Bin obeyed even though he was older and taller than Minhyuk. Something about his dark eyes was mesmerizing, and his lips were pink and full and soft.

Minhyuk leaned in, and Bin’s eyes fluttered closed.

Minhyuk’s hand, large and warm and solid, curled around the back of Bin’s neck, and Bin tilted his head down. Their lips met, and - oh.  _ Oh.  _ At first it was just a soft press of lips, but then it was little nips, again and again, and Bin’s heart was racing, and he parted his lips and Minhyuk’s mouth sealed against his and -

“Well, I’d say your brother definitely likes boys,” one of Sua’s friends said.

“I kind of want to take a picture,” another girl said. 

“No!” Sua hissed.

Minhyuk pulled back and gazed into Bin’s eyes.

Bin panted, dazed, fire racing under his skin.

“Think you can really handle me?” Minhyuk asked.

“I want to try,” Bin said.

“Good.” Minhyuk winked - and slid his hand into Bin’s back pocket.

Bin yelped.

Minhyuk said, “There’s my number. Call me.” He pulled his hand out of Bin’s pocket, patted his butt fondly, and then walked away.

Sua watched him go and said, “I don’t think you can handle him.”

One of Sua’s friends said, “Fighting!”


	13. 33. A kiss...forcefully. RockJin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minhyuk has one chance to prove he's man enough to be Jinwoo's boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For dancegodrocky on Twitter.
> 
> I've never written this ship before, so...here goes!

“You...like me?” Jinwoo stared at Minhyuk.

Minhyuk nodded. He wet his lips. Even though he was standing perfectly still, he looked - jittery.

When Minhyuk had asked Jinwoo to meet him at the practice room, Jinwoo had expected to assist on choreography or writing a song, not a confession.

Jinwoo took a deep breath. “Minhyukie -”

“I’ve graduated from high school and come of age,” Minhyuk said.

Jinwoo winced. Last week. Minhyuk had returned from his coming-of-age ceremony holding a single rose, smelling of new cologne, and frowning because he didn’t like alcohol.

“I’ve liked you for a long time and I’ve waited very patiently,” Minhyuk said. “I’ll be a good boyfriend. I’ll work hard on the team and won’t distract you, but I’ll be affectionate and available when we have time off. Of course I’ll understand when you have a busy schedule and can’t meet. I’ll make you meals and -”

“Minhyukie.” Jinwoo took another deep breath. 

Minhyuk’s eyes lit up, his expression turning hopeful. 

“You know I respect your hard work for our team,” Jinwoo said. “And yes, you’ve graduated from high school. But -”

“But I’m a man now,” Minhyuk insisted. 

Jinwoo looked him up and down. He was the same Minhyuk he’d been a week ago, skinny and bright-eyed, who cuddled with a stuffed wolf at night, who called his mother all the time and wore cute animal face masks every night, who lit up like a Christmas tree whenever someone brought him his favorite kimbap. Yes, he was a dedicated artist, worked like a machine when it came to dance practice and performance rehearsals, but where their fans saw a sexy beast, Jinwoo saw...Minhyukie.

That skinny kid who’d stood front and center in the practice room and been jealous of anyone who tried to steal away his Bin-hyung and who stuffed his face full of ramyeun till his cheeks puffed out and who sulked when he lost at video games even though he’d always been awful at them.

“Let me prove it,” Minhyuk said.

“How?” Jinwoo asked.

“With a kiss. Just one.” Minhyuk lifted his chin.

A kiss? What would that prove? Sure, Jinwoo and his teammates had kissed each other over the years, usually as a joke or to annoy each other.

“Just one,” he said.

Minhyuk grinned.

The next thing Jinwoo knew, he was pinned against the wall. He’d forgotten Minhyuk was taller than him. Sure, Jinwoo was broader and arguably stronger than Minhyuk, but like this, with Minhyuk pressed against him, he was reminded that Minhyuk was all rock-hard muscle. And Jinwoo could feel it, from his chest to his hips to his thighs. 

Minhyuk curled one hand around the back of Jinwoo’s neck and another at his hip and nudged his knee between Jinwoo’s thighs, and he leaned in. 

“Just one kiss,” he murmured. 

Jinwoo nodded shakily. “Minhyuk-ah -”

Minyuk ducked his head and silenced Jinwoo with a press of his lips and a slide of his tongue. And - damn. Where the hell had Minhyuk learned to kiss like this? Forceful and possessive, his hand hot on Jinwoo’s neck and his other hand sliding under the hem of his shirt and up his ribs and his leg pressing between Jinwoo’s and his hips rolling deliciously and -

Jinwoo whimpered when Minhyuk pulled back. 

“More,” Jinwoo begged.

“Only if we’re boyfriends,” Minhyuk said. 

Jinwoo nodded. “Yes. Boyfriends.”

Minhyuk smirked and leaned in to kiss him again. 

That night, Minhyuk sat beside him at dinner and shared his favorite kimbap and fed him pieces of kimchi that he usually shared with Bin, and when Bin pouted, Jinwoo smiled and enjoyed his food with relish and promised himself he’d do something very sweet for Minhyuk on his next day off. 


	14. 1. A kiss...good morning. Binhyuk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bin has the night of his life and is ready to sneak out the morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@binniehyukie](https://twitter.com/binniehyukie) on Twitter.

When Bin opened his eyes, he was confused and disoriented for a moment. Then he remembered. Last night. The party at Jinwoo’s place. He’d hooked up with Minhyuk. Minhyuk, the dance major from his freshman literature class. Minhyuk, who’d been a surprisingly well-read and thoughtful and hardworking partner on all their projects together (and he’d always been willing to be Bin’s partner whenever Bin asked, nodding and accepting with his shy dimpled smile). Minhyuk, who was serious and solemn and seemed humorless (he was from Jeju-do, the others said; men were just  _ like that _ down there). 

Bin had liked Minhyuk early on in their friendship as classmates.

Bin had fallen in love with Minhyuk the first time he saw Minhyuk dance at one of his recitals.

But he’d heard the rumors, that Minhyuk didn’t do relationships. He was a dancer, was confident and free with his body, and he’d do casual hook-ups, but he was pretty choosy, because he was handsome, and he was fantastic in bed, so whoever was lucky enough to get picked had the night of their life.

Once. 

And only once.

Bin had tried a thousand times to broach the subject of dating and whether Minhyuk had dated or would date, but it was like getting blood from a stone. And then Minhyuk had invited Bin to a party at his apartment and Bin had said yes and there had been some dancing and some drinking and some more dancing and Minhyuk had kissed him and said  _ Do you want to? _ And nodded toward the bedroom and Bin had said  _ Yes _ because once was better than never and now -

And now Bin was lying beside Minhyuk watching him sleep. In sleep he looked young and innocent and sweet, curled around a stuffed wolf like a little kid, only he was very obviously naked and there were bruises on his throat and collarbone from where Bin had -

No. It was best for Bin to leave now, while the memories were still a pleasant haze, while he could still savor them sweetly, before they turned bitter. He eased out from under the covers and picked his way across Minhyuk’s room, searching for his clothes. In the light of day, Minhyuk’s room was sparse and neat, with pictures of his parents and younger brother, his roommates Jinwoo and Sanha, and also some of his dance friends, and some of his classmates, including Bin.

Bin pulled on all of his clothes and eased the door open. He tip-toed across the apartment, which was empty but still had a few empty red plastic cups lying around, and then he paused at the front door, patted himself down for his wallet and keys and phone.

“You’re not going to leave without breakfast, are you?”

Bin started and turned.

Jinwoo stood in the kitchen, pulling on a tank top. “I was going to fry some eggs, but - wait. Minhyuk said you don’t like eggs.”

Bin blinked. “Um -”

Minhyuk came ambling out of the bedroom, sleep-rumpled and adorable. “Good morning.” He strolled right up to Bin and leaned up and kissed him on the mouth, smiling. “I can make kimchi fried rice for all of us.”

Bin swallowed hard. “I - I have to go.”

Minhyuk frowned, the expression pouty and adorable. “Really? Last night you said you didn’t have any plans today. I thought we could celebrate our Day One by -”

“By being too disgustingly cute even for a drama?” Sanha demanded, shuffling into the kitchen as he fumbled his glasses on.

“You’re just jealous because I was brave enough to confess and you’re still mooning over that girl whose name you don’t even know,” Minhyuk said, tucking himself against Bin’s side.

Bin’s head spun. Day One? Confess?

“Choi Yejin. Her name is Choi Yejin.” Sanha plunked himself down at the kitchen table and looked up at Jinwoo. “Hyung, make me some rice?”

“Minhyuk said he’d make kimchi fried rice for all of us.” But Jinwoo reached for the rice cooker. He eyed Minhyuk. “If that’s how you confess, that’d also get cut from a drama - for being X-rated.”

Minhyuk ducked his head, blushing. “I’ve never confessed to anyone like that before, but Bin-hyung is special. So, stay for breakfast at least? Before you go?”

“Just to be clear,” Bin said, “last night you confessed to me, and today is our Day One, and...we’re boyfriends now?”

Minhyuk nodded earnestly. “Yes.” Then his smile dimmed, and he stepped away from Bin. “Unless...you don’t really want to be? Last night was just a fling for you?”

“No!” Bin tugged Minhyuk close again. “I mean, yes, I do really want to be boyfriends, and no, last night was not just a fling. And I’ll stay. For breakfast. And the whole day, if you want.”

Minhyuk lit up again. “Perfect.”

“Also,” Bin said, “good morning to you too,” and kissed him.


	15. 24. A kiss...in danger. JinCha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Jinwoo has to create a distraction to shake a tail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [WannaBeYourEunwoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockianSyndromes/pseuds/WannaBeYourEunwoo)

Jinwoo shed his jacket, tossed it into a nearby garbage can.

“They’re still on your tail,” Sanha said.

Jinwoo didn’t dare look back and risk that the two massive thugs would notice him. He had to try to blend in and move as naturally as possible.

A moment later his earpiece crackled again and Sanha said, “Take the next left. It’s crowded. Could be collateral damage, but it’ll make them pause at least.”

Jinwoo took a deep breath, rounded the corner and onto a busy street.

It was crowded indeed.

He plunged into the crowd.

Sanha swore. “They didn’t slow down even a bit. I’m dispatching Myungjun.”

Myungjun, who was tiny and sweet-faced, with delicate hands stained with more blood than Jinwoo could comprehend. 

“No,” Jinwoo said. “I’ll find a way out of this. Give me thirty.”

“Roger that,” Sanha said, and then, “twenty-nine.”

The little gremlin was counting down.

He was a good handler for a reason, though. He kept his agents in line.

Jinwoo scanned the crowd. They were all oriented in the same direction. Why? The center of their attention had a specific focus. There. Tall figure. Male. Well-dressed. Handsome. Jinwoo searched his memory. He knew that face. Bus ads. Subway ads. Magazine ads.

Actor in half a dozen dramas.

Cha Eunwoo.

Korea’s It Boy.

Jinwoo veered toward him, cut past his staff with unerring confidence. He reached into his jacket for his ID and angled it so only a startled Cha Eunwoo could see.

“Pardon me, citizen, but I promise that this is absolutely necessary for national security and I would never otherwise presume to intrude upon your personal space,” Jinwoo murmured.

“Who -?” Eunwoo asked.

“Please forgive me,” Jinwoo said, leaned up, and kissed him.

He made it good, wrapped an arm around Eunwoo’s waist, the other around his neck, and dipped him.

To Jinwoo’s vast surprise, Eunwoo kissed him back. His lips were soft and his mouth was sweet and where the hell had he learned to do that with his tongue?

Cameras were going off in a storm of clicking and flashbulbs, and there was a low din of whispers and murmurs.

“Three, two, one,” Sanha said.

Jinwoo straightened up and steadied Eunwoo. “A thousand apologies,” he said, and bowed.

“It’s fine,” Eunwoo said, dazedly. “I mean, you’re a really good kisser. I mean -”

“Eunwoo-ssi!” 

His managers and staff surrounded him, shouting, and in the chaos that followed, Jinwoo vanished into the crowd. He plucked a jacket off one boy, a hat off another, and Sanha reported that his tail had broken off and retreated.

“Just so you know, you’re hosed,” Sanha said, when Jinwoo reported to HQ in person three days later.

“Why?” Jinwoo tossed the flash drive onto Sanha’s desk, the one he’d risked his life to retrieve.

“Because Cha Eunwoo, real name Lee Dongmin, remembers Park Jinwoo-sunbaenim, who was one year ahead of him in high school,” Sanha said.

Jinwoo searched his memory. “W-what?”

Sanha said, “Conference room three. Director Kang wants to kill you, but not before she gets Eunwoo’s autograph.”

Jinwoo, dazed, headed down the hall toward the conference rooms.

On the way, Myungjun patted him on the shoulder and said, “Nice catch,” and it felt a bit like a death sentence and a dream come true at the same time.


	16. 31. A kiss...after a small rejection. Myungjin.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jinwoo gets rejected but it's fine. Myungjun thinks he's handsome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the wonderful [vonseal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vonseal).

For all that Dongmin was the popular one and management sometimes got after the rest of them to work harder and get more popular so they could promote the team more, there were some definite upsides to being the lesser known members of the team - though Myungjun being in the musical and now also in a trot group was rapidly increasing his popularity. One of the biggest upsides was that they could go out and about without being recognized. Dongmin, even when he was barefaced and dressed quite plainly, always got recognized. Bin was easily recognized too.

If Jinwoo and Myungjun drove outside the city, if they dressed a little plain and were barefaced (and wore glasses - glasses helped a lot), they could walk through a park holding hands on a sunny day like today and have a nice date.

Myungjun had packed a picnic basket and was swinging it jauntily as they walked. Jinwoo was carrying a blanket and a cooler with some drinks. This was the best kind of picnic, the kind where they could relax and be themselves, without fans or anyone watching. It was just for them.

Myungjun had planned ahead and found a park beside a glittering blue lake, and he’d picked out a patch of grass shaded by trees. There was a paved walking trail along the lake, and so they were walking and enjoying the scenery and occasionally posing for pictures.

As they walked, they noticed a little girl standing on the edge of the path holding a fistful of wildflowers she’d picked herself. Her parents were nearby on a picnic blanket, her mother reading a book, her father napping with his head on his wife’s lap.

“Free flowers!” the little girl cried.

Her mother glanced up and smiled briefly, amused.

Myungjun and Jinwoo approached cautiously, and Jinwoo crouched down so he was eye-level. The girl looked to be about four, maybe five at most.

“May I have a flower?”

The little girl eyed him. Then she turned her nose up and thrust a slightly wilted pink blossom at Myungjun. “For handsome oppa.”

Myungjun laughed and accepted the flower. “Thank you, little miss.”

Jinwoo gaped at her.

Myungjun kissed him on the cheek. “Don’t worry, I think you’re handsome.” He straightened up and tugged Jinwoo with him.

“She basically called me ugly,” Jinwoo said.

“Don’t feel bad. Kids are blunt.” Myungjun led him over to their designated picnic spot and set down the basket.

Jinwoo set down the cooler and unfurled the blanket. “That means she actually thought I was ugly.”

“No, it means she thought I was extraordinarily handsome. You were just - average,” Myungun kicked off his shoes and sat down, patted the space beside him.

Jinwoo kicked off his shoes as well. “Well, you  _ are _ extraordinarily handsome, but I’m also very handsome.”

“You are.” Myungjun kissed him on the cheek again. “I think you’re hot. Now come on. Let’s eat, and then we can relax.”

Jinwoo couldn’t help but pout. “You really think I’m hot?”

Myungjun reached out and drew Jinwoo into a kiss that was slow and lingering and made heat build under his skin.

“Does that answer your question?”

Jinwoo cleared his throat. “Yes. Yes it does. Um. Let’s eat. And then maybe - maybe we should get home. Fast.”

Myungjun threw his head back and laughed, and Jinwoo was fiercely in love with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked for both spicy and fluffy and it sort of ended up...neither? Sorry.


	17. 6. A kiss...on a falling tear. Sanhyuk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minhyuk is about to cry. Sanha can't let anyone see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor warnings for swearing, because Minhyuk is a bad boy.
> 
> For [@ohnomygosh](https://twitter.com/ohnomygosh) on Twitter.

Park Minhyuk was fierce, talented, and sexy as hell.

He was kind of short, though. Once upon a time Sanha had been shorter than him, but in the break between middle school and high school he’d hit a growth spurt and now he was gangly and towered over Minhyuk.

He still hadn’t figured out how to  _ talk _ to Minhyuk. He’d spent eight months furiously practising the guitar in hopes of pulling off a super romantic confession via song, but he’d chickened out at the last minute.

He hadn’t expected that the first time he’d talk to Minhyuk would be on the sidewalk in front of school, begging for help because Kkiyoong had climbed up a tree and couldn’t get down.

Minhyuk stared at him. “You’re serious.”

Sanha nodded. “Y-yes. My kitten is up there and can’t get down and I - I’m not very good at climbing trees and I’m also kind of afraid of heights.”

Sanha hadn’t even realized it was Minhyuk, just saw the tie that meant it was an upperclassman and blurted out a plea for help, and then he saw Minhyuk’s face and it was too late to take it back. At least Minhyuk was alone and not with all his really cool friends on the dance team or the taekwondo team.

But then Minhyuk shrugged off his backpack and blazer and rolled up his sleeves and tucked his tie into his shirt and climbed up the tree, crooning gently. “Here, Kkiyoong, hyung is going to get you down safely, okay?”

Sanha peered up through the leaves. “Can you see him? He’s at the end of that branch there. He’s kind of shy.”

“It’s fine. Bin-hyung has a cat. Roa likes me more than she likes him.” Minhyuk’s voice was muffled. He scaled the trunk easily, swung himself up into the upper branches.

He was really strong.

And really flexible.

Sanha swallowed hard.

He heard Kkiyoong mewl.

“It’s okay,” Minhyuk crooned. “I’m a friend. I’ll bring you to Sanha-ya, all right? Just come over here.”

Sanha heard the branch crack.

It was a horrible sound.

It wasn’t nearly as horrible a sound as the snap of bone as Minhyuk hit the ground.

Sanha couldn’t even scream. He dropped to his knees beside Minhyuk, who wasn’t moving or making a sound.

“Sunbaenim! Are you all right?”

Minhyuk was curled into a ball, eyes squeezed shut. Suddenly he exploded into a flurry of cussing. Sanha rocked back, shocked.

Kkiyoong meowed sadly and poked his head out from between Minhyuk’s hands.

“Kkiyoong! You’re all right! Can you get free?”

“I can’t let him go because I can’t move my arm because my arm is  _ fucking _ broken,” Minhyuk snapped. He managed to sit up without his arms, which - wow. His ab strength must have been - wow.

Sanha blinked.

Several other students drifted toward them.

“Um, what should we do? Should we call an ambulance?” Sanha asked.

Minhyuk shook his head. “Get my phone out of my blazer. Call my cousin Jinwoo.”

Sanha scrambled to obey. “Okay. Um. What’s the password for your phone?”

Minhyuk told him. “Don’t think I won’t change it later.”

Sanha found Jinwoo-hyung on Minhyuk’s favorites list. “Why your cousin and not an ambulance?”

“Because ambulances are expensive and Jinwoo’s boyfriend Myungjun has a car and can drive me to the hospital.”

Kkiyoong meowed more loudly.

The other students came closer, murmuring.

Minhyuk glared at them and told them to stay back. He was pale and sweating. Sanha saw that his eyes were bright with tears. No. Park Minhyuk never cried, not over anything. Not when his team lost or when his team won or - 

A tear slipped down his face.

Sanha panicked. Minhyuk wouldn’t want anyone to see. What should he do? If he touched Minhyuk’s face people would know. 

Sanha leaned in and kissed Minhyuk on the cheek, right on the falling tear.

Minhyuk froze. “What are you doing?” he hissed.

Sanha pulled back. “You were crying.”

“So?”

“I figured you didn’t want anyone to see.”

“And you figured kissing me was the answer?”

“I’m sorry!”

“I told you to call my cousin!”

Sanha fumbled with Minhyuk’s phone again. It rang once before someone picked up.

“Hey, Minhyukie, what’s up? Want to go get some pizza after dance practice?” Cousin Jinwoo had an incredibly deep voice.

“Um, this is Yoon Sanha, one of Park Minhyuk’s hoobaes at school. He needs you and your boyfriend to come pick him up and take him to the hospital because he broke his arm.”

_ “What? _ Where are you?”

“We’re in front of the school.”

“We’ll be right there.”

Minhyuk managed to get the crowd of students to back away by glaring at them. Moments later, a car pulled up, and a couple of college students - both of them handsome - came to collect Minhyuk. Sanha scooped up Minhyuk’s backpack and blazer and followed helplessly, because he didn’t know what to do.

And because Minhyuk still had Kkiyoong.

The driver, Kim Myungjun, was an architecture major, sweet-faced and energetic. Park Jinwoo was handsome - obviously good looks ran in the family - and he was a photography major.

Halfway to the hospital, Jinwoo said, “Why do you have a kitten?” He was sitting in the back seat with Minhyuk, texting his parents about insurance and other things.

“Because,” Minhyuk said.

“Because why?” Jinwoo asked.

Sanha, sitting in the front seat with Minhyuk’s backpack on his lap like a shield, shrank down. “Ah - sunbaenim was rescuing Kkiyoong from a tree and fell.”

Myungjun burst out laughing. “Park Minhyuk? Rescuing a kitten?”

Minhyuk glared but said nothing.

Jinwoo poked his head up between the front seats. “What did you say your name was again?”

“Ah, Yoon Sanha, hyungnim.”

“Yoon Sanha who plays the guitar?”

Sanha nodded slowly.

Jinwoo and Myungjun exchanged a look Sanha couldn’t interpret.

At the hospital, Sanha and Myungjun sat in the waiting room while Jinwoo went with Minhyuk to see the doctor. A nurse brought Kkiyoong to Sanha in a shoebox several minutes later.

“Minhyukie really rescued your cat from a tree?” Myungjun asked.

Sanha nodded. “Yes.”

Myungjun hummed thoughtfully but said nothing after that, texting on his phone.

Sanha missed music and math hagwon. He texted his parents to explain that he’d accompanied a friend to the hospital after said friend got hurt, but since he was ahead on his school work he was all right.

Jinwoo escorted a tired Minhyuk back into the waiting room several hours later. Minhyuk had a neon pink cast on one arm. 

Myungjun jumped up. “Oooh, let me sign!”

Jinwoo handed him a pen.

Myungjun immediately set about leaving some elaborate message and picture on Minhyuk’s cast.

“Is your cat all right?” Minhyuk asked.

Kkiyoong peeked up from the shoebox and meowed.

“Yes, thanks to you.”

Jinwoo said, “You should sign Minhyukie’s cast.”

Sanha blinked at Minhyuk. “Um. Do you mind?”

Minhyuk shook his head. 

Myungjun finished with a flourish and offered the pen to Sanha. Sanha uncapped it and considered Minhyuk’s cast. Myungjun had drawn a sunflower and a duck and a smiley face and also left a scribbley signature like an idol. Sanha looked up at Minhyuk. Minhyuk avoided his gaze. The tips of his ears were red.

Sanha said in a low voice, “I’m sorry I kissed you earlier.”

Minhyuk muttered, “Don’t be.”

“What?”

“Don’t be sorry,” Minhyuk said.

“Yah, just date already,” Myungjun said.

Jinwoo hushed him quickly, but he was giggling.

Sanha wrote, hands shaking,  _ Will you go out with me? _ Then he held the pen out to Minhyuk.

Minhyuk wrote back, carefully because it was his off hand,  _ Yes. _

“You know that’s a permanent marker, right?” Jinwoo said.

Minhyuk said, “Shit.”

“Yah! Who taught you to talk like that?” Jinwoo smacked him on the shoulder.

“Me,” Myungjun said breezily. He plucked the pen from Minhyuk’s fingers and proceeded to turn the words into some kind of fancy rose.

And then Sanha heard a familiar voice. His elder brother.

“Yoon Sanha! Where is my cat?”

_ “His _ cat?” Minhyuk asked.

Sanha said, “He’s my brother. I can explain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time really writing this ship and it's not really my thing so, um, this is how it turned out.


	18. 27. A kiss...as a suggestion. Binwoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team has a rare day off. They each try to decide how to spend it. Bin has a suggestion for Dongmin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the lovely [Selenic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenic).

A day that all six of them had off was rare. A day that all six of them had no plans was rare. They’d drifted out of bed one by one, fended for themselves as far as breakfast, and by the time Jinwoo was awake and fed, they were all lounging in the den, sprawled across the furniture and contemplating what to do with their rare day off.

“I thought you had plans.” Myungjun craned his neck to peer at Sanha.

“Hyunjin and Bomin canceled. What about you?” Sanha asked Minhyuk. 

“Going to the sauna later. Want to come?”

Sanha considered. “Maybe.”

“What are you going to do with your day off?” Dongmin asked Jinwoo. “Go to the studio and write?”

Jinwoo yawned and shrugged.

Someone’s phone vibrated.

There was some half-hearted shuffling before Minhyuk finally answered his phone.

“Chani, hey, what’s up? A theme park? That actually sounds like a lot of fun.” He angled the phone away from his mouth and raised his eyebrows at Sanha. “Want to come?”

Sanha shook his head, eyes wide.

Minhyuk peeled himself off the floor and headed for the shower. “I’ll meet you in an hour.”

“Well, there goes your potential trip to the sauna,” Myungjun said.

Sanha rolled onto his stomach and batted his eyelashes at Myungjun. “Go to the PC-bang with me? We can try that new MMORPG we saw the trailer for the other day.”

Myungjun considered. He craned his neck to peer at Jinwoo. “You want to come with us? To keep the child in his rightful place.”

Sanha stuck his tongue out. “I’ll defeat both of you and then you’ll have to pay for _all_ of my snacks.”

Jinwoo looked more awake. “Fine. Loser pays for all the snacks.”

Myungjun’s eyes gleamed. “You’re on.”

“We should set some reasonable limits, though,” Jinwoo said, rousing himself further. “Each of us only gets to buy one snack every half hour max.”

Myungjun and Sanha sat up, and the three of them devolved into a fierce debate about the exact terms of their wager.

Bin turned to look at Dongmin. “What about you? What will you do with your day off?”

Dongmin hummed thoughtfully. “Read a book. Watch a movie. Maybe text my parents so I can have dinner with them. Come home and go to bed early. You?”

Knowing Bin, he’d probably want to go for a run and then hit the gym and lift some weights, maybe try out some new health shakes or protein drinks or -

Bin considered. “Well, how about this?”

“How about what?”

Bin leaned in and kissed Dongmin, slow and sweet and lingering. It was a kiss full of suggestions and promises and potential, and Dongmin could feel heat rising under his skin.

“Yah, not while there are children present,” Myungjun said.

Bin pulled back and said, “Sanha’s an adult.”

It was Jinwoo who made a little aegyo noise.

Dongmin sighed. “Go. Just - go play video games.”

“We live here too,” Sanha protested.

Dongmin turned to him and arched an eyebrow. “You want to hear what Bin and I have planned for today?”

Sanha shot to his feet. “I’m showering first!”

Minhyuk emerged from the bathroom, hair damp, ready to face the day. “See you later!” And he sailed out the front door, on the phone to Chani. “Yeah, I’m leaving just now.”

“I’ll use the other shower,” Jinwoo said, standing up.

Myungjun rose more slowly. He winked and said, “I have some furry handcuffs, if you’re interested.” And he sauntered toward the bedroom.


	19. 38. A kiss...because they’re running out of time. Myungcha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin has to kiss Myungjun because he's running out of time.
> 
> ...a bit of a Stargate Atlantis fusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@lycheelych](https://twitter.com/lycheelych) on Twitter.

“This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Dongmin said. “You pulled me away from my research for  _ this?” _

He stared down at the Myungjun, who looked impossibly small and still in the hospital bed. Sure, he’d noticed Myungjun hadn’t stopped by the engineering lab in a couple of days to pester him with coffee, but Myungjun, unlike Dongmin, was on a gate team, because Myungjun was crazy. Dongmin was sane and knew scientists should stay in the labs where they belonged, not gallivanting through the Stargate with soldiers and almost getting themselves killed. 

And now here Myungjun was, lying pale and unmoving, having been struck by some alien tech while offworld with the rest of AR-6. All of AR-6 - including Pegasus native Rocky - were natural Gene carriers. Any one of them could have been hit with the beam of blue light. But it was Myungjun who’d taken the hit. Myungjun, an innocent botanist. 

“Look,” Captain Park said, “the doctors and scientists have tried everything else, and we’re running out of time.”

“Time?” Dongmin echoed.

Corporal Yoon pointed to the hourglass - an actual hourglass - on the table beside Myungjun’s bed. 

The top half was nearly empty and the sand was falling fast. 

“One of the linguists helped one of the mathematicians make it,” Sergeant Moon said quietly. 

“This is...insane,” Dongmin said. “Myungjun has been cursed to remain asleep till he can be awakened by true love’s kiss. That’s not science. That’s a fairy tale.”

“And yet here we are, on the lost city of Atlantis,” Captain Park said.

Dongmin turned to look at him. “So you’ve - what, had everyone on this base come and kiss Myungjun? While he’s unconscious and unable to consent? What kind of team leader  _ are _ you?”

Rocky said, “Besides us, the only person Myungjun talks to every day is you. He talks about you all the time. He knows your favorite songs and foods. He knows your birthday and your brother’s birthday.”

Dongmin started, because he hadn’t even noticed Rocky in the corner, dressed head to toe in leather and no doubt also bristling with knives, a sword, and his massive blaster pistol. 

“Oh. Then why did you wait so long?” Dongmin looked at the nearly-empty hourglass once more. 

“You know Myungjun,” Captain Park said. “He’s open and honest. There must have been a reason he didn’t confess to you. And as you pointed out, he can’t consent. But time is running out.”

Dongmin thought of never seeing Myungjun’s smile again, never hearing his sweet laughter, and then he leaned over and closed his eyes.

Gave Myungjun a kiss. 

Myungjun gasped and coughed. 

Dongmin jerked back. 

“Sanha! Binnie! Jinie! Rocky! Are you all right? Did you get hit?” Myungjun blinked muzzily. “What happened? Where am I?”

“In the infirmary on Atlantis,” Dongmin said. “Your teammates are all right.”

“They are? Good. And Dongminnie is here too.” Myungjun’s expression softened into a smile and he reached out, curled his hand through Dongmin’s. 

In the background, Corporal Yoon shouted for Nurse Cho. 

Dongmin squeezed Myungjun’s hand and hoped everything that came after would also be all right. 


	20. 29. A kiss...as a promise. Myungcha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myungjun has to take off early to go work with his other team. He makes a promise to Dongmin before he leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@lyannstro](https://twitter.com/lyannstro) on Twitter.

Myungjun went to roll out of bed as stealthily as possible, but Dongmin stirred, so he paused.

“Do you have to go already?” Dongmin murmured. He blinked, adorably myopic and sleep-mussed in the pre-dawn light.

“Soon,” Myungjun said. He reached out and smoothed a lock of hair out of Dongmin’s eyes, and Dongmin smiled.

Myungjun loved that smile, small and sweet and innocent, one only he ever got to see.

“Stay a little longer,” Dongmin said, so Myungjun wrapped his arms around Dongmin and let him snuggle in close, enjoyed his drowsy warmth.

Dongmin hummed against him. He said, “I’ve seen all the fan edits on Twitter. Of Hui and that college kid, that theater kid -”

“Jinwook.”

“And that ex-idol.”

“Hyeokjin.”

“How they were all flirting with you at that photo shoot.”

“You know how photo shoots are.”

“Promise me you won’t fall in love with that theater major.”

“Dongmin…”

“He’s very pretty. And Hui is an amazing singer and songwriter.”

“You’re a songwriter now.”

“And that awkward one transforms when he sings. He’s a singing prodigy.”

“Hyungseok is a good singer, yes, but he’s not you.”

Dongmin peered at Myungjun.

Myungjun almost said, _What are you worried about? You’re Cha Eunwoo._ But that was the wrong thing to say. Instead he said, “Don’t worry. You’re Lee Dongmin. You wanted to be a robot programmer because you love robots and you love figuring out how things work and your fiercely brilliant, but you changed your mind to being either a lawyer, a prosecutor, a judge, or a doctor, because you wanted to bring people justice or save lives, because you’re a good person, and you’re here and an idol now because even though in the training room they told you that you were a failure every single day and you cried every single day you kept going. You’re amazing and I love _you._ Okay? I’m not going to just randomly fall in love with some other man because he flirts with me one time or says he likes my abs.”

“Who said he likes your abs?” Dongmin demanded.

Myungjun sighed. “You’re missing the point. I love you, Dongminnie, and that’s never going to change.”

“You promise?”

Myungjun leaned down and kissed Dongmin, soft and chaste. “I promise.” Then he slid out of bed and poked around in his drawers for clean underwear, then pulled on the hideously bright tracksuit he’d laid out the night before that was always his uniform for the trot show.

Dongmin made a low sound of protest, so Myungjun returned to his side, knelt by the bed.

“I promise I won’t fall in love with anyone else.” He leaned in and kissed Dongmin again, long and slow and sweet. Then he pressed a small velvet box into Dongmin’s hand. “Promise me you won’t fall in love with anyone else either?”

Dongmin sat up, eyes wide. He opened the box with shaking hands, stared at the plain white gold band inside. “Myungjunnie, you -?”

“Marry me? The next time we’re on tour. Somewhere it’s legal. I know it won’t count back here, not for years. But I researched some places we can do it, if we have a couple of days -”

Dongmin grabbed him and hugged him tightly. “Yes,” he whispered. “Yes. I’ll marry you. And -” He kissed Myungjun, long and slow and deep. “I promise I won’t ever fall in love with anyone else. I promise I’ll fall in love with you every day.”

Myungjun felt like his heart was going to burst.

His phone buzzed. Calendar alert.

“I have to go. Love you, Dongminnie.”

“Love you, Myungjunnie.” Dongmin slid on the ring and held his hand up for Myungjun to see, and Myungjun smiled.


	21. 17. A kiss...to distract. Myungbin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myungjun has a plan to distract the manager so Jinwoo and Dongmin can sneak back into the dorms. Bin just has to kiss him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@lyannstro](https://twitter.com/lyannstro) on Twitter.
> 
> Warnings: mentions of manager being creepy with girl trainees. Also Bin is underage.

They heard the drunken roar on the stairs. Manager Roh was doing a dorm check again. Dammit. Jinwoo and Dongmin were still out getting snacks. They’d been put on a strict diet but Sanha and Minhyuk - and really even Dongmin and Bin - were still growing, and Myungjun couldn’t stand listening to them cry at night because they were so hungry. Manager Roh was a horrible manager. He got drunk all the time, and more than once Bin had intervened because he’d gotten too handsy with Alice and some of the girl trainees.

All of the trainees were praying for him to get fired.

“What do we do?” Sanha asked. His eyes were wide.

Myungjun was the eldest. He was in charge while Jinwoo was gone, seniority be damned. He thought quickly. “You and Minhyuk, go get in bed and look like you’ve been asleep for hours. I’ll make it look like I’ve been helping Bin with homework.”

“But when he comes to check on Dongmin and Jinwoo -”

“We’ll distract him so you can open the bedroom window and signal to them to come up the back way, okay?”

“Distract him how?” Minhyuk asked, clearly anxious.

“I have a plan,” Myungjun said, with the supreme air of confidence of someone who was a longtime prankster and had, okay, one time been forced to transfer schools because of an extreme prank. “Go get into bed.”

Minhyuk and Sanha obeyed, changed into their pajamas with impressive speed and went into the bedroom.

Minhyuk usually slept in the kitchen, because he was claustrophobic and didn’t like how crowded the bedroom was. Manager Roh wouldn’t notice anything amiss with Minhyuk being asleep in the bedroom, though. If he even made it that far.

Bin spread his books across the coffee table, random textbooks and notebooks, and he managed to look vaguely studious. 

“Hyung, will this work?” he asked.

Myungjun said, “Kiss me.”

Bin stared at him. “What?”

“Manager Roh will be so mad and he’ll scream at us so much that he won’t notice if the entire dorm burns down around him.”

“But -”

“But just do it,” Myungjun said. “Right when the door opens, grab me and throw me back against the couch and kiss me like you mean it.”

Bin’s eyes were wide. “Hyung -”

They heard Manager Roh fumbling the door code.

“Think fast,” Myungjun said.

Manager Roh got the code wrong, had to try again.

They heard Sanha whisper shout, from the bedroom,  _ Take the back stairs!  _

The front door swung open.

Bin pinned Myungjun against the couch, crawled into his lap, and kissed him.

Manager Roh grumbled about taking off his shoes.

Bin kissed hesitantly, his hands on Myungjun’s shoulders tentative. Myungjun kissed him back, parting his lips, nibbling on Bin’s bottom lip carefully. He felt Bin shift in surprise, felt him kiss back more boldly.

There was another drunken roar.

“What  _ the hell _ is this?”

Myungjun wriggled out from under Bin, eyes wide. Manager Roh was a terrible sight - red-faced, eyes bloodshot, clothes and hair disheveled.

“I’m so sorry, Manager. I was helping him study. I don’t know what happened. He just kissed me.”

Bin cast Myungjun a betrayed look for a moment, but then he said, “I’m sorry, Manager. I’ve had a crush on hyung for a really long time. I couldn’t help myself.”

Manager wagged a finger at Myungjun. “You better keep your hands off of him. He’s the center of the team. And he’s still a minor. You - you could go to prison. You know what they do to men like you in prison?”

Bin looked terrified.

Myungjun bowed and apologized profusely. “I promise I’ll make sure I’m not alone with him until he comes of age.” 

Bin, by a quirk of his birthday, graduated high school at the same time as Dongmin but didn’t come of age till a year after him.

Bin said, “It’s all my fault, Manager. Really. He didn’t do anything wrong. I promise. I won’t let him get into trouble. I’ll restrain myself. I just - I’ve been keeping my feelings quiet for so long, and I couldn’t anymore. I’m so sorry, Manager. Hyung.” He bowed several times.

Myungjun was impressed. Bin really was a top-notch actor.

Manager jabbed a finger at Bin. “You better be as virtuous as a nun till you come of age, boy.”

Behind Manager, Jinwoo and Dongmin, carrying grocery bags laden with snacks, tip-toed into the apartment.

“Yes, Manager,” Bin said. “It’s just - hyung is so handsome and talented and kind, and when he offered to help me study, my heart -”

Manager turned to Myungjun. “You. You need to be like a drama leading man. Cold. Rude. You don’t help him study. You don’t help him with singing practice. You don’t buy him meals or anything, all right? You don’t tell him he looks handsome, you don’t tell him he sings or dances well.”

Myungjun nodded vigorously.

Jinwoo raised his eyebrows, but Dongmin pushed him into the kitchen, where they shoved all the snacks into the fridge.

Myungjun rose and shifted, and Manager automatically shifted to keep facing him - and so his back was to the bedroom door. Jinwoo and Dongmin tip-toed into the bedroom, still obviously curious.

Bin was still kneeling beside the coffee table, acting penitent.

Myungjun said, “I will be the coldest leading man ever, Manager.”

Manager nodded. “And the rest of your teammates?”

“Sleeping soundly in the bedroom.”

Manager glanced vaguely in the direction of the bedroom. “Good. Good.” He wagged his finger at Myungjun again. “Remember. Cold as ice.” And he stumbled for the door.

As soon as it shut behind him, Myungjun shook himself out.

“Good job,” he said to Bin, padding into the kitchen. “You want a snack?”

“Not really,” Bin said. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

There was an odd note to his voice.

Myungjun returned to the den. “What’s wrong? You were a really good actor. But Manager was pretty scary anyway, wasn’t he? He’s always scary when he’s drunk.” He knelt beside Bin.

Bin darted a glance at the bedroom door, and then he said in a low voice, “I wasn’t acting.”

Myungjun blinked. “What?”

“I - I  _ like _ you, hyung.” Bin lowered his gaze.

Myungjun bit his lip. “Oh, Bin-ah. I didn’t mean to toy with your feelings. I thought - I didn’t think you liked boys, let alone would ever like me. I’m not Dongmin or Minhyuk, so -”

Bin looked up sharply. “So what? You’re handsome and you sing beautifully and -”

“And you heard Manager Roh. You don’t come of age for two more years,” Myungjun said quietly. “So - go get a snack. You need to eat well to grow up strong.” He pushed himself to his feet, all too aware of how all the others were peeking out of the bedroom, eyes wide.

“Minhyuk, I’ll sleep in the kitchen with you tonight. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not, hyung,” Minhyuk said.

Sanha scrambled past him to get to the kitchen.

“Everything all right?” Jinwoo asked.

“Everything is fine,” Myungjun said, gathering up his bedding and shifting it into the kitchen.

But it was hard to fall asleep that night, and the next day Manager Roh was hungover and grumpy, and Jinwoo stepped out of vocal practice to have a quiet conversation with one of the other trainee managers.

After vocal practice, they headed for the dance practice room.

Sanha skipped ahead, chattering eagerly to Minhyuk.

Bin hung back, silent, but walking beside Myungjun.

Myungjun said, “You sang well today.”

For the first time that day, Bin smiled.


	22. A kiss...in relief. Binhyuk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minhyuk's quick reflexes aren't always a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@aroharteu](https://twitter.com/aroharteu) on Twitter.

The problem with Minhyuk having fast reflexes was that he moved without thinking. Usually that meant he just reacted violently whenever the confetti cannons went off at the end of music shows, which led to hilarious compilation videos on YouTube and Twitter later.

Occasionally it meant that jump-scares went wrong when one of the others tried to frighten him in the dorms. Sanha had had to go social-media silent for a week till his black eye cleared up from one time when he’d tried to surprise Minhyuk in the kitchen in the middle of the night.

While they were out filming on location for a variety show, Bin was a little tense, just because they were out and about in public, and they had to be on their best behavior even when the cameras weren’t rolling, and performing nonstop was its own special kind of exhausting.

The director called a break, and they gathered around on the street corner while Manager distributed bottles of water. Some of the stylists called them over to get their makeup touched up. There was a kindergarten across the street, small children in cute uniforms playing a game with brightly colored balls.

Bin barely registered what had happened, a bright pink ball flying through the air, a chorus of disappointed shouts of  _ Miyeon, again? Go get it! _

And then a woman yelling,  _ Miyeon, no! _

Sanha shouted,  _ Hyung! _

Minhyuk dove into the street.

Bin turned and saw a car screeching into the intersection.

Screams pierced the air.

A moment later, a little girl screamed, “Eomma!”

Minhyuk said, “It’s okay, oppa’s got you.”

Bin didn’t even think. He darted into the street, slid across the hood of the car, and dropped to his knees.

Minhyuk was kneeling in the street, his arms around the little girl, who was bawling her eyes out, her arms tight around the pink ball. Her uniform was smeared black from the road, as was Minhyuk’s outfit.

Bin grabbed Minhyuk and hugged him, pressed a kiss to his mouth. “What the hell were you thinking?”

The little girl cried louder.

And then her teacher was there, and the rest of the team and staff were there, and cameras were there, and Minhyuk let the little girl go, and there was talk of calling police and an ambulance.

Through it all Minhyuk insisted he was fine, just a bit scratched up. He apologized to the stylists for messing up his outfit, and to the staff and crew for interrupting to shoot.

“No, don’t apologize, you couldn’t let that little girl die,” Jinwoo said, patting him on the arm, and he looked like he was going to cry.

“Don’t cry,” Myungjun said, sniffling.

Sanha tugged on Minhyuk’s arm. “You nearly died!”

“I’m fine, really,” Minhyuk said. “The car didn’t even come close to us.”

The driver of the car was apologizing profusely to anyone who would listen.

Bin reached out and curled his hand around Minhyuk’s wrist and didn’t let go. His throat was tight and he couldn’t speak.

Manager directed the stylists to find Minhyuk a new outfit and also get the first aid kit from the van to patch him up.

“I learned first aid in school,” Dongmin said, because of course he had, and someone found a chair for Minhyuk to sit on while Dongmin patched up his elbows and knees.

The teacher of the kindergarten came over to thank Minhyuk, and then shooting had to resume. Half an hour into shooting, the little girl, Miyeon, brought Minhyuk a crayon drawing that was indecipherable but was apparently of Minhyuk as a superhero, which he promised to put on the refrigerator back at the dorm, and then half an hour after that Miyeon’s parents arrived and thanked Minhyuk some more (and Miyeon’s mother blushed terribly when she saw Dongmin, just like the kindergarten teacher had).

Bin stuck close to Minhyuk as much as he could for the rest of the shoot.

Back at the dorm, Bin said, “How do you feel? Are you sore? Let me check you over.”

“I’m fine. It was just like a forward roll in taekwondo class. It didn’t hurt a bit.”

“You got scraped up.”

“I’m fine,” Minhyuk said.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Bin said.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” Minhyuk said, “for our child or any child.”

Bin stared at him. Then he sighed, leaned in, and kissed him. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”

Minhyuk kissed him back, soft and comforting. “Me too. Now come on, let’s go to bed. We have an early start tomorrow.”


	23. 46. A kiss...out of envy or jealousy. Sanhyuk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The others are having fun. Sanha wants to have fun too, so he asks Minhyuk for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@WeveRoha](https://twitter.com/WeveRoha) on Twitter.

Sanha wasn’t sure how Jinwoo had done it, but not only had he convinced their manager to give them a night off, he’d managed to get all of them into this club. Sanha knew that San Francisco was famous for having lots of gay people, so he wasn’t surprised that the club was entirely men, who were all dancing with each other. 

Sanha also wasn’t surprised that everyone was crowded around Dongmin and Bin, because even Americans could tell that they were handsome, and also Dongmin and Bin were really good at drinking. But Jinwoo was good at speaking English, so he had a group of guys around him, was smiling and flirting, and somehow even Myungjun, who didn’t speak even a tiny bit of English, had a crowd of admirers who cheered and patted his hair and gave him snacks every time he laughed or danced. 

In contrast, Minyuk and Sanha were sitting at the very end of the bar, supervising everyone’s jackets and barely sipping their ciders. Yes, they were in the club. They were allowed to dance and have fun. Under no circumstances were they allowed to drink alcohol. Jinwoo had been very firm. 

Bin and Dongmin did a love shot, and their crowd of admirers cheered. 

“I bet if you got up and danced people would pay attention to you,” Sanha said. 

“I don’t want people to pay attention to me,” Minhyuk said. 

He was looking at something on his phone. 

It was a video. A tutorial on how to make some kind of knotted bracelet with flowers. Minhyuk watched the weirdest things. 

Sanha said, “The others are having fun. I want to have fun. Kiss me.”

Minhyuk lifted his head. “That’s the only reason you want me to kiss you?”

“Why else would I want you to kiss me?”

“Are you sure you want to go down this road?”

Sanha pouted. “Hyung.”

Minhyuk set his phone aside and stood up, stepped between Sanha’s thighs, and leaned in. “Are you  _ sure?” _

And suddenly Sanha wasn’t, because there was heat in Minhyuk’s eyes he’d never seen before, but then a man popped up beside him and started chanting  _ kiss! Kiss! Kiss! _ And Sanha knew enough English to understand what that meant. 

So he said, “Yeah, hyung, kiss me.”

And Minhyuk did. He curled one hand around the back of Sanha’s neck and one hand at his hip, tilted his head, and pressed their mouths together. He pressed their bodies so close Sanha could feel his heart beating, and he gasped when Minhyuk rolled his hips, and Minhyuk licked his way into Sanha’s mouth, and all around him there was cheering and shouting and clapping, but Sanha didn’t care, because he never wanted this kiss to end. 

But then Minhyuk pulled back, and the heat in his gaze was gone, replaced with something brittle and closed off, and he said, 

“There. You got your kiss.” 

He went and scooped up his jacket, and he called out to Jinwoo, “Hyung, I’m going back to the hotel.”

Jinwoo nodded, and Sanha watched Minhyuk walk out the door. He didn’t look back. 

One of the men slung an arm around Sanha’s shoulders and said something in English that he couldn’t understand. Sanha tried to smile, but he felt an ache in his chest, and he didn’t know why. 


	24. 47. A kiss...out of spite. SGA McShep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodney thinks the soulmate system is stupid and he kisses Sheppard to prove it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [Brumeier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier).

“This whole soulmate system is stupid,” Rodney said. “Total bullshit. The notion that we’re all destined to have a single person to love and be with for the rest of our lives is stupid. Only some of us are lucky enough to get that person’s name on our skin, and even then, how do we even find that person? Look at poor Beckett - the name he’s got isn’t even in the roman alphabet, and it belongs to someone who died while he was in his teens.”

“Thanks for telling everyone that,” Carson said sourly, pressing a hand to his ribs.

What had started as a friendly game of senior command poker had somehow turned into a drunken game of senior command truth or dare and now this.

Rodney wasn’t sure how they’d gotten onto the subject of soulmarks and soulmates, but he wanted to say his piece.

“The system is unhelpful and ridiculous and yet society has romanticized it to such a ridiculous degree that it’s now the gold standard of relationships to the point that it’s a miracle that the human race has managed to perpetuate itself at all,” he said, waving his bottle of rhuus wine for emphasis.

“Rodney,” Lorne said. “Maybe you should drink some water. You’re gonna be really hung over tomorrow.”

“I think we should start a revolution. To hell with the soulmate system. Love who you want. Give zero fucks about the name written on your skin if you have one at all.”

Carson raised his bottle high and shouted something in Gaelic. He was drunk enough that his previous sourness was long forgotten.

Zelenka also cheered.

Rodney was very resolutely not thinking about the name on the inside of his thigh that he’d never been able to read because it was in a dead language and probably belonged to someone who’d died before he’d even been born.

“To hell with the soulmate system!” And he finished his bottle of wine.

Several other people did the same.

And then he reached out and snagged the nearest person by the collar and kissed them.

Mmmmm. Good kiss. He was kissing a man. Big, strong hands on his waist. The pleasant rasp of stubble against his skin. 

And then he felt his soulmark  _ burn _ and he pulled back.

Stared.

At John Sheppard.

“What the hell?”

“...To hell with the soulmate system?” John said, his expression uncertain but also hopeful.

Rodney jabbed him with a finger. “You. How do you spell your name?”

“You know how to spell my name.”

“How do you spell your name in Irish? Your name is Irish, right?”

“Well, Sheppard is, but - oh, you mean like in Ogham, like Ancient Irish? My mom spelled it like that on my birth certificate for shits and giggles because she was high on pain meds after she had me, but -”

“Argh! Damn soulmate system!” Rodney grabbed John and kissed him again, and maybe the system wasn’t so terrible, because John had been his best friend for years anyway.

The next morning, Rodney woke with a roaring hangover and John in his bed.

“Hey,” he said, “do you have a soulmark?”

John shook his head, still drowsy.

Rodney groaned and closed his eyes once more. Nope. The soulmate system was still terrible.


	25. 11. A kiss...in joy. SGA McLorne

“How are things going?” Evan asked.

“Just relax,” Amita said. She patted his wrist gently, then continued expertly applying henna to the back of his hand. “The whole point of henna is that it cools you down and relaxes you. It’s extra nice in the summer. Helps the bride chill out and be a bit less of a bride-zilla, you know? Not that you’re the bride. Or that you’d be a bride-zilla.”

“Major Lorne,” Teyla said, “I assure you that all the preparations are well under way and everything is under control.”

Evan nodded but looked skeptical.

Zelenka said, “Here, try this kolache. Is raspberry flavored. You like this flavor better, for the reception?”

Everyone on Atlantis knew that Evan had unparalleled organizational skills and that he worked many long hours to make sure that not only did the base run smoothly but that people also had many comforts of home. No one had suspected that Evan’s organizational skills stemmed from the fact that he was a bit of a control freak. Offering to plan his wedding for him had seemed like a kind gesture but had turned into an exercise in Evan-herding. How any of Evan’s superior officers had managed it previously, no one knew. Teyla was starting to suspect that none of them had actually managed it and just hadn’t realized it when Evan ended up managing them.

But young Corporal Jimenez seemed to have taken to his role as deputy wedding planner quite well, and he came to report in every day like clockwork.

“What progress have we made on the ducks?” Teyla asked.

“Nurse Cho reports that the ducks are at one hundred percent,” Corporal Jimenez said.

“Ducks?” Evan asked.

“Nurse Cho indicates that ducks are a symbol of long life and fertility in her culture and are typically presented at weddings,” Teyla said. 

“And she found ducks in Pegasus?” Evan sounded both impressed and alarmed. “How were they captured? Will they be turned loose at the wedding? You know Rodney’s about as good with animals as he is with kids. He’s only good with cats -”

Amita made a soothing sound. “Have some rose lasee and relax. I’m about ready to move on to your other hand. When I’m finished you’ll have to try to find your lover’s name in the design.”

Everyone paused what they were doing and leaned in to peer at the very intricate henna pattern on Evan’s skin.

Amita smiled winsomely and kept on working.

* * *

When the big day finally arrived, Evan was clearly a bundle of nerves, but he looked very handsome in his special blue uniform. Ronon had made a pair of traditional necklaces that couples exchanged during binding ceremonies on Sateda. Of course, there would be an exchange of rings, as was the Tau’ri custom.

But everyone had contributed. Zelenka had taken over the kitchen and commanded the Marines to make a mountain of kolaches in various sweet and savory flavors in lieu of a cake; that way they could meet various dietary restrictions. A wedding table was laden with gifts and also many symbols of love and fertility and good fortune, including a pair of hand-carved wooden ducks from Nurse Cho. 

Teyla was officiating, because as leader of her people, she had that power. Woolsey and Teldy were acting as witnesses.

Ronon was acting as best man for Evan. And John was acting as best man for Rodney.

Who, in true Rodney fashion, was even more nervous than Evan, and was almost late.

But he arrived just in the nick of time, and he looked stunning in a tux.

The guests filed in, and under the sparkling light filtering through the stained glass window in the gate room, in front of the gate that was also a symbol of eternity, the ceremony began.

Teyla cleared her throat, and silence fell.

“Today,” she said, “we are gathered to witness the union of two hearts. They are joined in courage.”

Here Ronon stepped forward, and they exchanged necklaces.

“They are joined through sorrow, through pain, through peace, and through joy. Do you wish to be joined?” Teyla asked. 

“I do,” Rodney said. 

Evan smiled. “I do.”

Teyla smiles at them, and she said, “They are family in law and in truth.”

Evan and Rodney turned to each other, their eyes shining, and exchanged rings.

Teyla added, though this was not part of the traditional Athosian ceremony, “You may kiss the groom.”

Rodney muttered, “Finally,” and grabbed Evan, and there was a brief ripple of laughter, but Evan leaned in and kissed Rodney, and they both looked so utterly happy that Teyla couldn’t help but smile again. 

When the kiss finally ended - it was John who rolled his eyes and muttered  _ Finally _ \- Woolsey declared them married under the laws of the United States and also Canada and Atlantis, and the guests applauded and cheered.

It was an eager Ronon who said, “Let’s eat!” and the celebration began.

Everyone surged to their feet and headed for the buffet table, but Evan hung back, Rodney still in his arms.

“We made it,” he said softly, and Rodney nodded, smiled, and kissed him again.


	26. 39. A kiss...because time’s run out. MCU IronStrange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is surprised when Stephen kisses him hello, but says time has run out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [SherlockianSyndromes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockianSyndromes).

When Tony stepped through the garage door and into the kitchen, Stephen kissed him. It was a wonderful way to be welcomed home, Stephen’s arms around him, Stephen’s lips on his, Stephen’s warmth.

Except -

“Shouldn’t you be making medical students cry right about now?” Tony asked after he pulled back from the embrace.

Stephen shook his head, and the look in his eyes was strange, something Tony couldn’t read, and over the years he’d come to be able to read Stephen so well, every look, every glance, every shift of his brow and quirk of his lips, tap of his fingers and brush of his hand.

“No,” Stephen said. “I’m not teaching anymore.”

Tony stepped back, looked Stephen up and down. “What, you’re just going to quit teaching? You love teaching.”

Stephen looked like he’d just come from the university, wearing slacks and a comfortable sweater and his white lab coat, Dr. Stephen Strange stitched on the breast pocket, only for a moment Stephen flickered and he was wearing a ridiculous red cape, and Tony had to blink, and the image was gone, like an afterimage from looking into the sun.

Stephen said, “The time for classes is no more.”

Tony frowned. “What do you mean?”

Stephen reached out, curled his hand at Tony’s jaw, and his hand was shaking. “We’ve run out of time.”

Tony reached up, put his hand over Stephen’s. “What’s wrong? Why are you shaking? Stephen?”

The door from the garage door opened, and Peter bustled in. He dropped his backpack on the counter and made a beeline for the fridge.

“Hey Dad,” he said to Tony. “Hey, Pops.”

Only Tony’s entire world wavered around the edges, and he heard Peter say, his voice lighter, younger, from when they’d first adopted him:

_ Oh, you’re using your made-up names. I’m Spider-Man, then. _

But then everything snapped back into place, snapped back to normal.

“Shouldn’t you be studying for an exam or something?” Tony asked. “Don’t they  _ have _ exams at MIT? They had exams when  _ I _ was at MIT. They had exams when you were at Johns Hopkins, right?”

Only Stephen didn’t answer. He reached out and pulled a startled Peter into a hug.

Peter, in true Peter fashion, tried to take a swig of orange juice out of the carton over Stephen’s arm. “Hey, Pops. Everything all right?”

“Everything will be,” Stephen said.

And then -

Tony felt like he was coming out of a very, very bizarre dream. Like he’d been subsumed underwater for years. Decades. Centuries?

“Fourteen million, six-hundred and five possible futures,” Stephen was saying.

He looked exhausted.

The green light around his hands had finally gone out.

“And in how many of those do we win?” someone else was asking.

Tony couldn’t remember anyone else’s names. He remembered Stephen and Peter. He remembered Peter’s girlfriend and best friend and Peter’s roommate at MIT and his slightly awkwardly overly-friendly RA and -

“One,” Stephen said. “Just one.”

Tony looked at Stephen.

Stephen smiled faintly at him and pushed himself to his feet, hands shaking, and not just from the constant use of magic, and for a moment Tony wondered what it would be like to feel those hands on him, if those hands were steady.

Someone else - Banner - clapped Tony on the shoulder. “Time’s up. Let’s go.”


	27. 42. A kiss...out of pride. Guardian Shen Wei/Zhao Yunlan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zhao Yunlan has pride. In his love for Shen Wei.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [Selenic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenic).

Yunlan sank down at his desk, buried his face in his hands. Another long day in the books, and they were no closer to finding the suspect. For all that the SID crew was special, there was something terribly ordinary about being a police detective. And it was that he was always called because the worst had happened, and he was always there for the worst humanity - and beyond - had to offer.

And it was exhausting.

There were rarely good answers for the questions he had to ask, the good old-fashioned  _ Who, what, when, where, how, why? _

Usually the answers were grim: greed, fear, hatred. Those were common. Understandable, in their own way.

Worse were the less petty answers: curiosity, boredom, because it would be fun.

Yunlan patted himself down for a lollipop and found none. In the grand scheme of things, it was a minor inconvenience, but after the day he’d had -

“Detective Zhao.”

There was a scraping of chairs and murmurs of  _ Chief Zhao. _

Father. The last person Yunlan wanted to deal with today was his father.

Yunlan looked up. “Chief.”

“You’re making little progress on this case.”

“Little is more than none.”

Father glanced over his shoulder at the burst of paper across the bullpen desks that really was the team’s way of collating evidence. There was a method to the madness but in the last few days it had mostly been madness. The case was madness. Whenever Yunlan closed his eyes all he saw was blood.

“Your precinct is a mess.”

“Progress is progress,” Yunlan said firmly.

Father pursed his lips. “Do you take  _ any  _ pride in yourself?” As a man? As a police officer?

He was asking both questions, though both went unspoken.

Everyone was staring.

But then they all stopped craning their necks and there was another flurry of activity and Xiao Guo said, a little worshipfully, 

“Wei-gege, you brought food.”

It was Yunlan’s turn to crane his neck, and sure enough, there was Shen Wei, beautiful in a crisp three-piece suit, though he shed his jacket and of course he was wearing those ridiculous but charming arm garters, and he had an actual basket full of containers of food.

“Apologies, Chief, but food has arrived and I need to help my team. We need to eat if we want to work effectively.” Yunlan rose, stepped around his father, and went to help clear a space on the desks.

Shen Wei turned to him and smiled briefly, and Yunlan thought,  _ I’m proud of my love for you, _ and he glanced back at his father. And then he leaned in and kissed Shen Wei on the mouth.

Silence fell in the bullpen.

And then Shen Wei said, “Hello to you as well.”

Chief Zhao made a strangled noise, and he said, “I’ll expect more progress tomorrow.”

There were some murmurs of  _ Yes, Chief _ as he saw himself out, but Yunlan didn’t care.

“Progress?” Shen Wei asked. “Am I interrupting?”

“Not even a bit.” Yunlan grinned at him.

Shen Wei reached into the basket and held up a container of lollipops. “I noticed you were running low.”

Yunlan’s grin widened. “You’re a genius.”

“Just observant.”

Yunlan kissed him again.

Someone hooted. Yunlan didn’t even care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written in this fandom or for this ship, so...this is it.


	28. 30. A kiss...as comfort. SG-1 Daniel/Vala.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vala wakes from a nightmare. Daniel is there to comfort her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [Ivorysilk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivorysilk/pseuds/Ivorysilkv).

They were seated in the front row, as Daniel was considered one of the senior science officers. Even though he hadn’t been stationed on Atlantis for that long, he clearly had seniority within the SGC, and Vala had been on SG-1, so they sat up front near Sheppard and McKay, Lorne and Zelenka, Woolsey and Teyla, Ronon and Chuck.

Even though Vala hadn’t known Sergeant Yoo well, he’d been well-respected on Atlantis, and he’d be very missed, and she could feel grief at his passing.

It was Chief Master Sergeant Jimenez, the senior-ranked non-commissioned officer, who gave brief remarks, and then the rest of Sergeant Yoo’s gate team carried the flag-draped coffin through the gate while everyone stood and watched in silence.

“Did he leave behind many people on Earth?” Vala asked Daniel once the gate shut down.

Vala was good at learning people, because it paid to know people and details, and in Atlantis people were less wary of her than they had been on Earth, but Daniel learned faster, was more disarming somehow, because with his glasses he seemed like an academic. Perhaps it was because no one here wore gate team patches, and the younger generations - like Sergeant Yoo and AR-14 - didn’t know he’d been on SG-1 just by looking at him.

“Just his mother, father, and older brother,” Daniel said. “He was a very talented singer. Had absolute pitch in addition to perfect pitch.”

Vala nodded.

She made a point to attend every funeral, whether she knew the fallen well or not, because in her time as Qetesh, she’d been the cause of death for many, and she hadn’t been able to mourn them, not really, and she’d lived for a long time sure that when her time was up no one would mourn her.

After the gate closed, everyone returned to their quarters to change into regular clothes, and then they returned to their duties. 

On Atlantis, Daniel was a valued member of the expedition for his knowledge of Ancient language and culture, and he was teaching anthropology and linguistic PhD candidates in a pilot program the IOA had arranged for students to receive their degrees in the Stargate Program itself. 

Vala was a roving member for gate teams. Anyone who needed a spare body - spare gun, spare diplomat, spare security expert - could ask her along. More often than not she was in the gym training civilians who wanted to be gate rated for addition to a gate team. 

Some nights she woke with a scream lodged in her throat, sure she was still a prisoner in her own body, praying some band of plucky humans would put an end to Qetesh’s reign but terrified that she would die forgotten. 

Would anyone remember Vala’s name?

A brief press of lips on her shoulder jolted her back into motion, and she sucked in a breath. 

“Vala,” Daniel said softly. “It was just a dream.”

She nodded. 

He sat up beside her, close enough for her to feel his warmth but not touching, not till she was ready. 

Qetesh had taken many lovers. None of them had been allowed to kiss her. 

Daniel was allowed to kiss Vala, but he respected her personal boundaries. 

“If I die before you, what will you remember most about me?” Vala asked. 

Daniel didn’t answer for a long time. He was thoughtful. He wouldn’t answer lightly. Finally, he said, “That you lived.”

She turned to him. “Everyone lives.”

He shook his head. “Most people survive. You’re a survivor, don’t get me wrong. You’re quick and witty and resourceful. You come out of situations that would kill the toughest Marines ten times over, and you do it with a smile. But you  _ live. _ You settle in and make a place yours. You know what the Marines say about things getting dicey offworld? Ask Vala. She’ll know how to make it home safe. And the civilians - they love you. You make them feel safe and competent. All my students adore you too. You love learning new things and trying new things and seeing new places and meeting new people. You live your life. And it’s beautiful. And I love you for it. For all that I study people and cultures, sometimes I forget to live. But you remind me that I’m alive - and you reminded me that I’m allowed to love.”

Vala looked at Daniel, sleep-rumpled and squinting at her myopically in the darkness, and kissed him. “I love you too.”

On another night she would kiss him out of a nightmare, but tonight he was comforting her, and she would accept many more kisses, and so she let him lower her back down to the bed, and they kissed till they fell back to sleep. 


	29. 20. A kiss...on a scar. WK AyaxKen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After missions, everyone has their ritual to come back to humanity. Ran and Ken have their own rituals from their deeper relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [Ivorysilk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivorysilk/pseuds/Ivorysilk).
> 
> Set during Side B.

Another mission, another post-mission haze where they tried to swim back to their normal selves. There was a kind of ritual to it all, clustered in the mud room at the back of the flower shop, stripping out of their bloodied uniforms while they tried to sort out which of their clothes could be rescued (repaired, washed free of the blood stains) and which were beyond saving (and would go into the furnace in the basement). Free and Michel did rock paper scissors to decide who would clean off everyone’s bloodstained boots. There was no question that everyone would clean their own weapons.

Ran knelt to help Ken untie his boots while Ken worked on taking off his tiger claws. He probably had a broken hand, if not a badly sprained one, and his wrist was swollen, so getting the gloves off was a delicate process. His shoulder was out but not all the way out, so while Ran worked at his laces, he worked at his gloves. Once he got his gloves off - he’d learned how to operate them one-handed a long time ago, could work the catch on the side with his teeth in a pinch to get the claws to retract, though it had been a close shave more than once - he set about wriggling his way out of his shirt.

“You’re all painted up,” Chloe drawled.

“Think I cracked a rib,” Ken admitted. “No soccer for me for a week.”

“Two weeks,” Ran corrected. He glanced up - then leaned in and pressed a kiss to the scar on Ken’s abdomen, an absent apology.

It was part of the ritual.

“Why that scar?” Michel asked. Then he blinked his wide eyes and fumbled the boot brush. “I mean -”

“When there are so many others,” Chloe said. It was an insult; Ken had so many scars because he’d made so many mistakes on past missions.

Ken felt the tiger inside uncurl and growl. Ran curled a hand around his ankle, a comfort and a warning. So Ken smiled and shrugged.

“Ran stabbed with his katana one time.”

Free blinked.

“I mean, he was stabbing the guy behind me, and you really only need one kidney to live, am I right? But that’s what teamwork is all about. Do what you gotta do to get the kill.” Ken pulled Ran to his feet and kissed him, long and slow and deep.

Michel let out a little squeak and was probably covering his eyes.

With his bloodstained hands, which was some kind of irony, but whatever.

“Yes, teamwork,” Free agreed.

Chloe sighed.

Ran pulled back, and Ken stepped out of his boots. Ran handed both his and Ken’s boots to Michel and said, “Thank you.” Then he curled his hand around Ken’s wrist and led him toward the stairs.

“Come on,” he said. “We can take a long, hot bath.”

Ken grinned. “I’m interested in a long, hot -”

Ran shoved him up the stairs. “Stop scandalizing our teammates.”

“Sorry not sorry.” But Ken took the stairs two at a time.

Ran did his best to check Ken’s ribs, and he put Ken’s shoulder back in, and then he checked Ken’s wrist - sprained, not broken - and iced him down for a bit.

In the hot water, they sprawled together and missed the onsens of home. Ran traced the scar.

“I really am sorry,” he said.

Ken said, “I know.”


	30. A kiss...where it hurts. GW 1x2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heero breaks a bone (again). Duo doesn't exactly kiss it better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [Ivorysilk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivorysilk/pseuds/Ivorysilk).

Even though Duo and his former pilot teammate were skilled enough to perform high-level infiltration and assassination missions, Duo really didn’t mind the occasional milk-run infiltration and retrieval (read: smash-and-grab) jobs, especially since it meant he and his beloved Heero wouldn’t be in the line of fire for much peril.

So, naturally, there was much peril.

There was an alarm where there shouldn’t have been an alarm, guards where there shouldn’t have been guards, there was shouting and gunfire, and there was a whole lot of diving out of windows to get away with the target item.

Heero hit the ground hard and at a bad angle. The crunch of bone was audible. Duo was by his side first, but the others were hot on his heels.

“Where does it hurt?” Duo asked.

Heero pointed to his left arm.

Duo leaned in and kissed the bare patch of skin just above his elbow.

Heero scowled. “What the hell? Baka!”

But Quatre and Trowa had caught on immediately. Quatre pounced on Heero’s other arm, and Trowa pounced on Heero’s legs.

Heero squirmed and bucked. “What -? Get off me!”

Duo grabbed Heero’s shoulder and did his best to immobilize the injured arm without aggravating the break further. “Wufei, called Doctor Sally!”

Wufei already had his cellphone in hand. “Preventer Water, this is Preventer Dragon. Please send medical assistance immediately to our coordinates. Before Preventer Lightning tries to set one of his own broken bones. Again.”

Heero sighed and flopped back. “Is  _ that _ what this is all about? I’m past that.”

“Are you sure?” Duo asked. He leaned in and pressed another kiss to Heero’s arm, just in case.

Quatre hissed and said, “He’s not sure. He’s trying to get this arm free as we speak.”

“Traitor,” Heero said.

Trowa shifted his weight on Heero’s legs calmly and said, “Your flexibility is impressive if you think your legs will do your broken arm any good.”

Heero gritted his teeth. “Some friends you are.”

Wufei pocketed his cellphone. “The ambulance will be here any moment. In the meantime, I’ll keep the surviving guards off our tail.”

He knelt and assumed a steady firing position.

It took Heero nearly pretzeling himself to try to set his arm and Duo and Quatre doing some really fast talking before the EMTs would let all five of them ride in the ambulance. Sally met them at the entrance to the ER with a large syringe full of a sedative.

“We don’t usually need to sedate a patient to set a broken bone,” the ER doctor said.

The head EMT said, “Knock him out.”

When Heero was released from surgery with a cast on his arm and strict instructions not to remove it, the rest of the team was in the recovery room to meet him.

“You’re all traitors,” Heero said.

Duo drew a big kiss mark on his cast right over the break.

Heero sighed and said, “I expect you to make me a lot of mochi and sushi and miso soup.”

“Chocolate mochi,” Duo promised.

Heero smiled - and refused a wheelchair when Sally came to discharge him from the hospital.


	31. 2. A kiss...good night. WangXian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lan Clan curfew is 9PM. Unfortunately for Wei Wuxian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [Brumeier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier).

“Good night,” Lan Zhan said. He pressed a kiss to Wei Ying’s mouth, patted his arm, and then went into his dorm room and closed the door.

Wei Ying said, belatedly, “Good night.” Then he looked down at his watch. “It’s only eight thirty. Isn’t it?”

He looked at Jiang Cheng, Nie Huisang, and Wen Ning for confirmation.

Wen Ning nodded dutifully.

They were sitting in the hall commons in the dorms studying together after supper.

“I told you,” Nie Huaisang said. “The Lans have a lot of rules. They go to bed at nine and wake up at five. My older brother is close friends with Lan Wangji’s older brother.”

“But it’s only eight thirty,” Wei Ying protested.

“Yeah, but he’s going to brush his teeth and wash his face and probably do some cooldown stretches and then meditate before he goes to bed,” Nie Huaisang said knowingly.

Wei Ying stared. “But - but he’s my boyfriend now. We’re supposed to cuddle and be cute and snuggle till we fall asleep on each other or say I love you till -”

“Till one of us throws up or we throw shoes at you to make you shut up,” Jiang Cheng said sourly.

“They have rules.” Nie Huiasang shrugged.

Wei Ying sighed. But sure enough, every night at eight thirty, Lan Zhan kissed him good night and retreated to his dorm room to get ready for bed.

On Friday night, while they were all watching movies together, Lan Zhan stayed till a quarter to nine before he gave Wei Ying a kiss good night.

One time Wei Ying decided to experiment. Would Lan Zhan break his self-imposed curfew for a really fun time? 

Wei Ying knew Lan Zhan was intelligent, and also he appreciated nature, so one night when there was going to be an impressive meteor shower, Wei Ying arranged for their entire friend group to go on a night picnic in the park to watch the celestial show. He brought coffee for Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng, green tea for Wen Ning and Lan Zhan, and a big gulp soda for himself, as well as assorted snacks and food. They ate and drank and talked (Lan Zhan never spoke during meals - another one of his many family rules - but he didn’t mind when others spoke) and when the time came, they watched.

Right when a big shooting star streaked across the sky, Wei Ying leaned over and said, “Make a wish.”

Lan Zhan gazed up at the sky, and then he nodded.

Wei Ying said, “I wish I can always stand with justice and live with no regrets.”

Lan Zhan said, “I wish I can always stand with justice and live with no regrets.”

Wei Ying turned to him and smiled. Lan Zhan gazed at him, leaned in, and kissed him.

They kissed soft and sweet and slow.

Then Lan Zhan pulled back and murmured, “Good night.”

“Good night?” Wei Ying asked, confused.

Lan Zhan curled up close beside him, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

Wei Ying looked at his watch. It was nine o’clock.

Wen Ning said, “The stars are beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said softly.

Jiang Cheng threw a shoe at him.


	32. 48. A kiss...out of habit. Binwoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin has a habit of forgetting a lot of things in the morning but never his kiss goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@AstRrrrosoft](https://twitter.com/AstRrrrosoft) on Twitter.

“Keys?” Bin asked.

Dongmin patted himself down. “Check.”

“Phone?” 

Dongmin pressed a hand to his pocket where he always put his phone. “Check.”

“Wallet?”

Dongmin nodded, paused, cast about, then reached out and scooped his wallet off the kitchen table and tucked it into one of his other pockets. “Check.”

“ID badge?”

Dongmin’s eyes went wide. He patted himself down. He checked the kitchen table. He went to check the shelves by the front door where he was supposed to leave his wallet, badge, and keys at the end of the day for easy retrieval before work the next day. Bin let him flounder for a bit before he cleared his throat and pointed.

Dongmin looked down at himself and saw that he was already wearing his ID badge on its usual lanyard around his neck. He needed his ID badge to get into the lab at the office, and at least once a week he lost it and had to be issued a temporary one (he was on a first-name basis with the staff at the security office at this point; Bin was pretty sure the boys and girls at the security office had crushes on him).

“All right,” Bin said. “Have a good day at work.”

“Thank you,” Dongmin said, and he turned and dashed out the door to the garage.

A moment later he came dashing back in.

Bin, who’d turned to give baby Jisoo her breakfast, paused, startled. “Is everything all right?”

“Forgot one thing,” Dongmin said. 

He reached out and drew Bin into a kiss, long and slow and sweet. 

“Have a good day, too,” Dongmin said.

And then he dashed back out the door.

Eunbi, sitting at the kitchen table, kicked her feed idly and scooped up some rice. “Dad’s gonna be late to work again, isn’t he?”

“Maybe a little bit,” Bin said, smiling fondly.

“Does Dad have to kiss you goodbye  _ every _ morning?” Eunbi asked.

“It’s kind of like a habit,” Bin said. “You have to have a bedtime story every night, don’t you?”

Eunbi considered, then nodded. “But sometimes kissing you goodbye makes Dad late for work.”

“Some things are worth it,” Bin said. “And he’ll only be a little late.”

“Maybe Dad would get to work on time if he was better at finding his keys and stuff.”

“True,” Bin said.

“Why doesn’t he put his keys and stuff on the shelf like you do?”

“Well, some habits are harder to build than others,” Bin said. “Now eat up. You have to get to school and Jisoo and I have to get to the dance hagwon with Uncle Minhyuk for work.”

“Yes, Papa.” Eunbi gobbled down her rice faster.

Bin managed to dodge a spoonful of flung porridge from Jisoo. He texted Dongmin,  _ I love you,  _ and then it was time to really face the day. 

At the end of the day, Dongmin would kiss him hello again, because that was another habit they’d built over the years, and it would be the perfect way to welcome each other home.


	33. 19. A kiss...for luck. Sanhyuk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minhyuk is going to fight. He needs something a little extra for luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [astrooohaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrooohaa/pseuds/astrooohaa)

“He’s big,” Bin said, eyeing Minhyuk’s next opponent.

“Like...really big,” Myungjun agreed.

The boy on the far side of the mat looked to be taller than Sanha and broader across the shoulders than Bin, which was saying a lot.

“Shouldn’t fighters be divided by weight?” Jinwoo asked.

“That’s wrestling,” Dongmin said, but he also looked nervous.

“It’ll be fine.” Minhyuk checked his belt - he had his name embroidered on his black belt, which he’d earned fair and square, and he was proud of it. He checked his gloves and his shin guards, and then he tugged on his head gear. 

“You don’t have to go out there,” Bin said. “You’ve fought well today. We can go back to the dorm and you can hold your head up.”

“If you get a black eye or lose a tooth or break your face, that’s a different story,” Myungjun piped up.

Jinwoo hissed and swatted him in the arm. He affected a wounded pout.

Minhyuk said, “I’ve trained hard. I’m going to win.”

“You sound so sure.” Dongmin eyed him.

“Because I  _ am _ sure.”

“You haven’t competed seriously in taekwondo in several years,” Dongmin said.

“But recently I’ve trained hard, and my body hasn’t forgotten what I’ve trained it to do since I was very young,” Minhyuk said.

The others looked at each other. Then Jinwoo extended his hand.

“Well...good luck out there.”

The others put their hands into the circle. Jinwoo counted them in, and they shouted,

“Astro, fighting!”

Minhyuk squared his shoulders and started toward the edge of the mat.

“Wait,” Sanha said.

Minhyuk paused and looked back at him.

Sanha darted a glance at the others, then at the staff who were filming and taking pictures. Whatever. They’d probably edit this out. Sanha hurried over to Minhyuk and said,

“For luck.”

Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip of Minhyuk’s nose, because with his head gear on there was no way he could get any closer.

Minhyuk blinked at him, startled, and then he was blushing, and he looked pleased.

He said, in a low voice, “I want a better one when I win.”

And he turned and trotted onto the mat.

Sanha had trained in taekwondo and judo growing up, though he hadn’t competed like Minhyuk had, so he was just as nervous as the others while they watched. The ref had Minhyuk and his opponent bow to each other. The other boy seemed so much bigger now that he was standing directly opposite Minhyuk, and it seemed impossible for Minhyuk to prevail. How would Minhyuk be able to get close enough to strike without getting hit first?

The ref called a start to the match.

Minhyuk lunged and roared. The other boy hesitated, and Minhyuk circled, spun - and kicked the other boy in the head.

The boy hit the mat with a thump.

The ref called an end to the bout, and Minhyuk retreated to his side of the mat, bouncing on his toes.

Myungjun said,  _ “Heol.” _

“Minhyuk has always had good hip flexibility,” Bin said reasonably.

After several moments - and a couple more refs checking him - the other boy climbed to his feet and shook himself out. 

“He’s scared,” Dongmin said. “Minhyuk really scared him. Either he’s going to be desperate and reckless, or he’s going to be timid and -”

The ref called for a start to the second bout.

Minhyuk came out aggressively, headed straight for the other boy, who retreated to the edge of the mat. Minhyuk faked a kick low, kicked high. The boy blocked, and Minhyuk spun into another head kick, and the boy went down again.

Match over.

“Over?” Sanha asked.

“Match is three points,” Jinwoo said. “A head kick is worth two points.”

Myungjun reached into his pocket and fished out a tube of chapstick, held it out. “Better get ready, Sanha. Minhyuk will want his prize.”


	34. 15. A kiss...passionately. Chaky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The director of the music video wants passion. Minhyuk and Dongmin deliver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [siriusRocky0425](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriusRocky0425/pseuds/siriusRocky0425)

“Give me passion!” the director said. “Like that whole  _ such a good night _ but - more. Much more.”

Minhyuk looked at Dongmin.

Dongmin looked at Minhyuk.

The director sighed and put his hands on his hips. “You two look like you hate each other.”

“We don’t hate each other,” Dongmin said. “We’re good friends. We’re like brothers. We’ve lived with each other for five years. We work really well together.”

As true as that was, Dongmin was still nervous about the two of them as a subunit. Bin and Sanha were a natural choice. They were both vocalists, they’d displayed great chemistry as MCs, they were both tall, and Sanha was an excellent dancer. Jinwoo and Minhyuk would have been a natural choice for a subunit, because they were both rappers and dancers, and they’d have a chance to explore their heavier hip-hop sides. Both of them had done more serious rap tracks for their solos for the last concert, and fans had been really receptive of those. Dongmin and Myungjun, as two vocalists, would have then been a natural choice as a third subunit. They could have done something more subdued, Dongmin on piano, Myungjun’s soaring vocalists, an emotional ballad.

But then Minhyuk had called in the middle of Dongmin’s Vlive and convinced him to be a subunit together and said  _ I love you _ and fan support had exploded on SNS and now -

And now here they were, filming the music video for their subunit debut single.

The company had given then a lot of freedom, let them write and compose their debut single, let Minhyuk choreograph it, and of course Minhyuk was doing the rap parts, but he was carrying some of the vocal parts as well, and he’d set aside portions of the choreo to allow Dongmin to shine, and Dongmin was mildly terrified. One track was a sensitive ballad, Dongmin on piano, he and Minhyuk singing, the song stripped-down and raw.

But there was this track to get through.

“Please,” the director said. “Give me  _ passion.” _

Minhyuk caught Dongmin’s eye and said, “All right.”

Something in his tone made Dongmin’s heart beat faster. What was Minhyuk going to do?

The director blew his whistle - he had a whistle like a PE coach so he could be heard over the music - and the music started up again.

The concept of the music video was that the two of them were chasing a lost dream or a regret. The song had a bit of a Latin rhythm and choreo to match. Dongmin nodded his head to the beat, feeling it. This scene wasn’t a dance scene, just the two of them vibing out to the music.

“Passion!” the director yelled.

Minhyuk started toward Dongmin, his gaze intent. He caught Dongmin in a ballroom dance frame, and Dongmin had enough dance training that he could respond properly, and he moved with Minhyuk, but then Minhyuk dragged him in close and dragged his leg up Dongmin’s calf and locked an arm around his waist and curled his hand around Dongmin’s neck and pressed their foreheads together so they were looking right into each other’s eyes.

“What -?”

“Hyung,” Minhyuk breathed.

“Yes?”

“Love you,” Minhyuk said, and kissed him.

It wasn’t just a peck on the lips. It was a  _ kiss. _ Minhyuk tilted his head and parted his lips and licked his way into Dongmin’s mouth, and it was definitely the kind of kiss that wouldn’t get shown in a primetime television drama.

Someone said,  _ “Heol.” _

The director blew his whistle. “Cut! Cut cut cut!”

Minhyuk released Dongmin and stepped back so fast Dongmin stumbled. “Yes?” he asked, all innocence.

The director and all the staff were blushing bright red, except for Manager, who had his face buried in his hands and was shaking his head in exasperation.

“Ah - less passion,” the director said. He cleared his throat. “A little less passion. I mean - a lot less passion. In fact, just - go back to glaring at each other. That was fine. Just fine. Just make it a sort of sexy glare.”

“Yes, Director,” Minhyuk said, the soul of politeness.

Dongmin fanned himself with one hand and said, “Yes, Director.” 

“Back the music up,” the director shouted, and there was some shuffling.

“I’ll get you for this later,” Dongmin said to Minhyuk in a low voice.

Minhyuk grinned. “I hope you do.”

“There! That expression! That’s the passion I want,” the director said, and then, “Action!’


	35. 40. A kiss...because the world is ending. Chaky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minhyuk and Dongmin watch the end of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST.
> 
> TW for references to suicides of minor characters.
> 
> For [rainysleeping](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainysleeping/pseuds/rainysleeping).

“This is the way the world ends,” Dongmin said.

Minhyuk turned to him. 

They were sitting side-by-side on the roof of their dorm building, watching the burning sky together. It was a never-ending sunset; neither of them could remember the last time it had truly been dark. When they were both tired, they’d stuff rags and clothes around the windows and doors to block out the light, and they’d curl together in Minhyuk’s narrow bed and sleep.

When everything went to hell, Dongmin had tried to go home, hit the streets with a backpack full of food and water and a baseball bat. He’d made it half a block before Minhyuk had to dive in, fend off rioters and police alike, and drag Dongmin back to the dorm. Minhyuk, Dongmin, and Dongmin’s roommate Ohseong had formed a survival pod, sharing food, clothes, and human comfort.

They’d lasted a month before the bombs started to fall and the sky started to burn and Ohseong couldn’t handle it. Dongmin and Minhyuk returned from a food trade run to nearby dorm buildings and found Ohseong’s body and retreated to Minhyuk’s room.

One by one the other boys in the building succumbed, some running, some jumping, some following Ohseong, and now it was just the two of them.

The voices on the radio faded from stoic, calm newscasters to panicked conspiracy theorists to looped government and military broadcasts to static.

Dongmin’s solar charger for his phone kept them in music and also podcasts.

Minhyuk’s English was much better than it had ever been in school after listening to Eric Nam’s voice for an hour or so every day.

“This is the way the world ends,” Dongmin said again.

Why was he saying it in English?

Minhyuk turned to him. Was he going to crack? Was he going to give up one not-night while Minhyuk was sleeping?

They’d done their best to keep each other sane. They’d scavenged a guitar from a nearby dorm room and Dongmin had taught Minhyuk to play. Minhyuk had taught Dongmin taekwondo, which was a practical skill. Dongmin had taught Minhyuk basketball. They were both good at soccer, had turned the roof into a half pitch, half court.

“This is the way the world ends,” Dongmin said. “Not with a bang, but a whimper.”

“Are you all right?” Minhyuk asked.

Dongmin said, “It’s from a famous poem called  _ The Hollow Men.” _

“Do you feel hollow?”

“Sometimes.” Dongmin’s gaze was distant. Then he glanced at Minhyuk. “What about you? Don’t you feel hollow?”

Minhyuk said, “Not when I’m with you.”

Dongmin stared at him for a long moment. Then he turned away, back to the burning sky.

Minhyuk curled a tentative hand around Dongmin’s wrist. “Hyung.”

Dongmin turned to him again.

“I love you,” Minhyuk said.

Dongmin blinked and blushed. “What? All of a sudden?”

The burning in the sky flared brighter, so bright Minhyuk almost couldn’t see. He reached out with a trembling hand.

Dongmin reached out and curled his fingers through Minhyuk’s, and then he leaned in.

They kissed.

And the whole world was swallowed in burning light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poem Dongmin quotes is T.S. Eliot's The Hollow Men
> 
> Go check out rainysleeping's [Where The Flame Goes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25814824)!


	36. 45. A kiss...out of anger. WangXian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One should not speak if he has nothing polite to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a friend of a friend.

Wei Ying wished he was anywhere but here in Golden Carp Tower for a discussion conference. Yes, he was the Chief Cultivator’s cultivation partner. He was still the Yiling Patriarch. Yes, someone else had been responsible for Jin Zixuan’s death. And yes, someone else had been responsible for Jin Zixun’s death. That didn’t change the fact that people were still afraid of Wei Ying, and that he’d made some terrible mistakes.

And none of that had stopped Jiang Cheng from not-looking at him from the moment he’d stepped foot into Lanling territory. Jin Ling was glad to see Wei Ying, mostly because he’d come with the Lan Clan delegation with Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi, and of course Ouyang Zizhen had attached himself to them as soon as they’d arrived.

But the question of Wen Ning remained, and the remains of the mock Yin Tiger seal Xue Yang had made, and also the fact that Sect Leader Yao and Sect Leader Ouyang still pretty much hated Wei Ying.

It probably didn’t help matters that perhaps the one ally Wei Ying might have had was Nie Huaisang, who usually seemed like an idiot but was actually some kind of master manipulator and had master manipulated Lan Xichen into killing Jin Guangyao, who was also a master manipulator and had master manipulated a bunch of people to death, but he was also the love of Lan Xichen’s life, and now Lan Xichen was in seclusion, and so -

Shouting.

Much shouting.

Fingers pointing.

Chaos.

Jiang Cheng not shouting for once, although he was moodily drinking tea and not-looking at Wei Ying amidst the not-shouting.

The Lan Clan was without a leader (not so; Lan Qiren had stepped up to handle things). Lan Zhan, great Hanguang-jun though he was, was not fit to be Chief Cultivator if his choice of cultivation partner was the Yiling Patriarch.

Jin Ling was too young to be Chief Cultivator, and besides, the Yiling Patriarch was his adopted uncle.

Jiang Cheng couldn’t be the Chief Cultivator, as the Yiling Patriarch was his adopted brother.

Sect Leader Ouyang couldn’t be the Chief Cultivator - after all, his son hero-worshipped the Yiling Patriarch.

That only left Sect Leader Yao -

“Sect Leader Yao is a whining coward and the entire cultivation world would collapse if he were to lead it for even half a day,” Jin Ling said.

“Shut up, brat,” Sect Leader Yao spat.

“That’s Sect Leader Brat to you,” Jin Ling shot back.

Wei Ying cleared his throat. He could break things off with Lan Zhan, make things easier for everyone. He started to rise. Lan Zhan rose, swept across the hall, and pulled Wei Ying to his feet. The shouting intensified. 

Lan Zhan dragged Wei Ying into a kiss.

Oh. 

Silence fell.

It was a simple press of lips.

But then it was more, deeper, harder, faster -

_ “What _ is the meaning of this?” Sect Leader Ouyang demanded.

Lan Zhan said, “Wei Ying is my husband. Wei Ying is no monster.”

“Why did you kiss him?” Sect Leader Yao asked, exasperated.

“Everyone else was shouting. One should not speak if he has nothing polite to say,” Lan Zhan said. “Today we decide clan borders. Tomorrow we decide night hunt patrol borders. Tomorrow the discussion conference is finished. Nothing further.”

He turned and swept back to his seat.

Wei Ying sank back into his own seat, dazed.

Lan Sizhui handed him a cup of tea. 

“Today’s meeting is about borders?” Wei Ying whispered.

Nie Huaisang whispered back from behind his fan, “And you wonder why I was always confused in class.”


	37. 34. A kiss...to pretend. Binwoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin tries to pretend that everything is all right but Bin notices it's not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [trashbinu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashbinu/pseuds/trashbinu)

“How’s it going?” Bin asked, dropping down into the floor of the practice room beside Dongmin. 

“Good,” Dongmin said, pulling his knees in to his chest so Bin wouldn’t see how his legs were shaking. He’d come straight to the practice room after school. He had to get this choreography right before the weekly evaluation. One year. He’d promised his family he would stick it out for one year. If he couldn’t last for three months - 

“Did you finally figure out that footwork? The part that was giving you trouble? Minhykie said he stuck around late last night to help you.” Bin looked concerned. 

Dongmin bit back a curse. He’d had to swallow his pride and ask Minhyuk for help. Minhyuk was younger and already ten times the dancer Dongmin would ever be. Minhyuk was as good at dancing as Dongmin had been at academics at his old school. Dancing was effortless for him. 

“I’m fine,” Dongmin said, and to forestall further comment, leaned in and kissed Bin. 

Bin smiled into the kiss, soft and sweet, and for a moment Dongmin could forget all the stress of the day, the instructors yelling at him, the constant criticism and reminder that however good a student he’d been before, as a dancer and a singer he was nothing. 

But then Bin pulled back and smoothed his thumb over Dongmin’s cheek. “Hey. You’re not fine.”

“What?” Dongmin asked, and he realized he was crying. 

Bin gathered Dongmin in his arms and held him. “I know it’s hard. It was hard for me too at the beginning. I’m here for you. You don’t have to hide from me, all right? I’ll help you too.”

Dongmin buried his face against Bin’s shoulder and let the tears fall. “I don’t think I’ll ever get it. Math and science and basketball I get. But dancing I just -”

“Don’t think about it right now.” Bin reached up and petted Dongmin’s hair gently. “Let your worries go. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Dongmin closed his eyes and kept on crying. 

When he was finally out of tears, he pulled back and apologized for getting Bin’s shoulder all wet. Bin kissed him gently. 

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind. Let’s go back to the dorm, okay?”

Dongmin nodded and let Bin help him to his feet. They headed to the locker room, and Bin did some homework while Dongmin showered, and they rode the bus back to the dorm together. 

At the bus stop, they thanked the bus driver and then hopped off. It was Bin’s idea to swing by the convenience store for a late night snack of ice cream. Because it was so late, they held hands as they walked slowly back to the dorm, savoring their ice creams. They had to finish their treats before they got back, or the others would complain about not having ice cream too, and a late-night excursion for ice cream was bound to lead to trouble. 

They paused at the door and exchanged sticky kisses. 

“Forget your worries for tonight,” Bin said again. “We’ll work hard tomorrow. And don’t hide from me anymore, okay?”

Dongmin nodded and kissed Bin one more time. “I promise..”


	38. 28. A kiss...as a lie. Chaky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin asks if Minhyuk is okay. Minhyuk kisses him.
> 
> TW: major character death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@mum2u96](https://twitter.com/mum2u96) on Twitter

Dongmin couldn’t remember what had happened. One moment they were cruising along the highway, windows down, wind in their hair, singing along to one of their songs.

It was a beautiful summer day, the sun bright overhead, the sky blue, not a cloud to be seen.

Dongmin could remember looking over at Minhyuk and seeing his beautiful dimpled smile, hearing him laugh.

And then -

A flash of sun in his eyes.

Minhyuk shouting.

Squealing brakes.

A waterfall of breaking glass.

The shriek of twisting metal.

The world turning upside down.

Dongmin blinked a few times, opened his eyes.

He was in the car.

The car was upside down. He couldn’t really see because blood was dripping into his eyes. His head throbbed. He could move one arm, but the other was pinned against his side. He was still wearing his seatbelt. Nothing else really hurt. He could breathe. 

“Minhyukie?”

“I’m here.” Minhyuk’s voice sounded clear, strong. 

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. How are you feeling?”

Dongmin felt a hand curl through his.

“I think I’m okay,” Dongmin said. “I hit my head, and my head hurts, but - I don’t think it’s that bad? Head wounds always bleed a lot.”

“They do,” Minhyuk said. 

“How long was I out?” Dongmin asked.

“Not that long,” Minhyuk said. “You answered a few questions before, but maybe you weren’t quite fully lucid. I called 119. Help is on the way. Stay with me till then, all right?”

“All right,” Dongmin said. “Do you know what happened?”

“Drunk driver, I think. Veered right into our lane. Hit us head-on.”

“What happened to him?” Dongmin blinked and tried to wipe his eyes, but the blood kept dripping.

“Just close your eyes,” Minhyuk said gently.

There was a hitch in his voice.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dongmin asked.

“I’m fine,” Minhyuk said.

“You promise?”

Minhyuk kissed him. It was soft and slow, sweet and reassuring.

“Now,” Minhyuk said, “you have to stay awake till the paramedics get here. So, you should sing to me.”

“Really?”

“You can talk in your sleep but you can’t sing in your sleep,” Minhyuk said.

“True,” Dongmin said. “It won’t sound great.”

“You always sound great to me,” Minhyuk said, and it could have been cheesy, but Dongmin knew it was sincere.

So he started to sing No, I Don’t.

_ The summer day that we first met _

_ I keep thinking of that all day _

_ I must be the only one thinking of it, right? _

_ I can’t live without you _

He sang his loudest, and he sang his best, and then -

“Sir? Are you all right? I’m a paramedic,” a woman said.

“I’m fine,” Dongmin said. “I hit my head and the wound’s been bleeding a lot, but I’m okay.”

“We’ll get you out in just a moment,” the woman said. “It’s about to get noisy, but we need you to stay calm. What’s your name?”

Dongmin told her.

“How old are you?”

Dongmin told her.

“Do you know what day it is?”

Dongmin told her.

“Excellent,” she said. “What’s your friend’s name?”

“Minhyuk,” Dongmin said, “Why?”

A man said, low but not too low for Dongmin to hear, “I’m not getting a pulse from him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, they were cruising along to [Somebody Like](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tuFpv4rPq1U)
> 
> Lyrics, of course, from [No, I Don't](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XcBXxN8AvaY)


	39. 32. A kiss...to wake up. BinSan.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanha has to wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@nz_aroha](https://twitter.com/nz_aroha) on Twitter.

“Hey baby, wake up.”

Sanha blinked, frowned, confused. Bin never called him _ baby. _

And that wasn’t Bin’s voice.

And then he remembered. The meeting at the bar with Bin, not the two of them for drinks as just Bin and Sanha, but the two of them meeting as Moon Bin and Yoon Sanha, the heads of the Moon and Yoon syndicates, their men arrayed behind them, guns and knives and pipes and chains at the ready.

Sanha remembered the burning green of laser sights, of gunfire, of chaos, of Bin lunging at him as the fight broke out.

He remembered waking later, alone, imprisoned in an empty love motel and tearing through a series of empty rooms.

He remembered a drugged drink and -

Someone kissed him softly.

“Wake up,” Bin said.

Sanha opened his eyes, sat up.

Bin sat beside him on the bed.

Bin’s faithful lieutenant, Minhyuk, stood beside the bed, wearing an amused expression.

What was Minhyuk doing here? Last Sanha had seen him, he’d been in the thick of the firefight, slinging bullets and blades at - 

Jinwoo, Sanha’s own lieutenant, who was leaning in the corner, arms crossed over his chest.

“What happened? What’s going on?” Sanha asked. “Was it just a dream?”

Only Bin’s face was still bruised and cut from where they’d fought. 

Sanha reached out, and Bin flinched away.

“I’m sorry,” Sanha said.

“I’m sorry too,” Bin said quietly. “But it had to be done.”

“You made it look pretty good,” Minhyuk said. “Should I call a hotline? Do you feel safe at home, Sanha?”

Bin swatted at Minhyuk; Minhyuk dodged deftly. He was favoring his right arm, Sanha noticed.

“Do I even have a home anymore?” Sanha asked.

“No,” Jinwoo said. “Your house is mine. Your empire is mine.”

“But _we_ have a home,” Bin said. 

Sanha turned to him. “Really?”

Bin nodded. “You’ll love it. It’s out in the country. It’s quiet. We can take naps on the lawn. It’ll be so peaceful.”

“It will be if you go right now, before the others figure out what you’ve done,” Minhyuk said. He glanced at his watch, then at Jinwoo, who nodded and slipped out of the room.

Jinwoo was limping ever so slightly.

“I owe you,” Bin said. He helped Sanha to his feet, wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and together they headed for the back door.

“Don’t worry about it,” Minhyuk said. “I’m the new Moon Bin. I’ve got your house and your car and all your money and all your men - and your problems. Take your boy and go. I never want to see your face again. Except for the wedding. I better be the best man at your wedding.”

Bin nodded.

Minhyuk tossed him a set of car keys.

Sanha’s heart was pounding. This was it, what he and Bin had been dreaming of since they were teenagers, since they’d run into each other at a masked ball neither of them should have been at, a party hosted by a crime lord who’d been rival to both their fathers.

“I told you meeting up like that was a bad idea,” Minhyuk called after them, and they hurried out the door and into the night - and to their freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing this ship.
> 
> Also Bin says his concept for the [Bad Idea](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K0oSaCS0_98) MV is that he's a therapist getting rid of Sanha's bad thoughts/dreams but I maintain that he and Sanha are rival mob bosses in a star-crossed love affair and they end up in some kind of crazy shoot-out at a bar.
> 
> Also no, I don't take domestic abuse lightly, but Bin and Sanha did wreck each other pretty good in that brawl.


	40. 16. A kiss...lazily. Chaky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin and Minhyuk have a rare day off at the same time and decide to spend it lazily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@heartbrewaroha](https://twitter.com/heartbrewaroha) on Twitter

When Dongmin opened his eyes, Minhyuk was already awake, curled on his side and gazing at Dongmin.

“What time is it?” Dongmin asked, yawned.

“Dunno.” Minhyuk smiled at him softly.

“How long have you been awake.”

“Not long.”

“Have you just been watching me sleep this whole time?”

“Just a little while. It’s good to see you rest. You don’t often get to rest. I worry.” Minhyuk reached out and smoothed a lock of hair out of Dongmin’s eyes.

“I know you work hard too,” Dongmin said. His closed his eyes and leaned into Minhyuk’s caress. “What should we do today?”

“It’s our day off. We don’t have to do anything today. We should stay right here and forget the rest of the world. The entire world is us, in this bed.” 

Dongmin opened his eyes and looked at Minhyuk. “Oh? But what if we get hungry?”

Minhyuk considered. “We can order food from our phone and make Sanha bring it to us.”

Dongmin huffed, amused. “You’ve got this all planned out, haven’t you?”

Minhyuk leaned in and kissed him, long and slow and lazy. “I’ve had this day marked in my calendar for weeks. A whole twenty-four hours when Lee Dongmin is all mine. Everyone else has had their share of Cha Eunwoo, but today you belong to me.”

Dongmin kissed him back, wound his arms and Minhyuk’s neck and drew him close, savored his warmth. “Don’t think I haven’t seen Rocky out there dancing with his wrists all tied up, or being cute on a cooking show with Jinjin, or -”

“Today I’m all yours too,” Minhyuk said. “It’s just you and me. We don’t even have to leave the bed. So whatever you want, you can have it.”

Dongmin pulled back and really  _ looked _ at Minhyuk, at his miles of smooth golden skin and sleek muscles, and said, “Let’s not leave the bed.” 

Minhyuk grinned.

Dongmin scooped his phone off the nightstand and checked the time. He texted Sanha. 

_ Are you awake? _

Sanha’s reply was quick.  _ I’m playing games in the den. Why? _

_ I’m going to order food. Bring it to me when it arrives.  _

Usually Sanha would protest that kind of request, and Dongmin was prepared to call in several favors that Sanha owed him. 

So he was surprised when Sanha answered with a simple,

_ Okay.  _

Dongmin sent back, Thank _ you. _

Then he turned to Minhyuk. “What do you want to eat for breakfast? I’ll order in. Sanha will bring it to us.”

“Like I said, whatever you want.” Minhyuk scooted closer to Dongmin and nuzzled his throat. 

Dongmin’s breath hitched. “All right.” He picked a restaurant they both liked, ordered several of their favorite savory dishes plus a dessert and some drinks, then set his phone aside. “Food will be here in about an hour. What should we do till then?”

Minhyuk slid on top of Dongmin and kissed him, long and slow and deep. “I think that’s plenty of time for you to do me.”

It was Dongmin’s turn to grin. “Sounds good to me.”


	41. 21. A kiss...on a place of insecurity. Binwoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During Blue Flame promotions, Dongmin reminds Bin of some of the many reasons why he is loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@AstRrrrosoft](https://twitter.com/AstRrrrosoft) on Twitter.

Dongmin had just settled onto the sofa with a mug of tea and a book when he heard someone input the door code, and the front door opened. Bin stepped into the apartment and kicked off his shoes, nudged them into place in the row of shoes just inside the front door.

Dongmin smiled. “Welcome home.”

Bin looked up. “I’m home.” 

He tugged off his hoodie and hung it on one of the pegs that wasn’t already crowded with jackets and coats and other hoodies. Fans noticed that they wore each other’s clothes and thought it was cute. Sometimes it was because it was just easier to grab the hoodie that they could reach rather than dislodging an entire pile of hoodies in search of their own.

“You were working out?” Dongmin asked.

Bin nodded and padded across the den, sat down on the sofa beside Dongmin. He posed and flexed his bicep, preened. “See? While you were working hard, I was working hard.”

Dongmin set his book and mug aside, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to Bin’s bicep. “You work very hard.”

Bin laughed, startled. “What?”

Dongmin leaned in closer and pressed a kiss to the side of Bin’s neck. “You also have a very pretty voice when you sing and speak.”

“Thank you…?” Bin tried to twist around to look at him.

Dongmin pressed a kiss to Bin’s temple. “You have a very smart mind.”

“Not as smart as you,” Bin said.

Dongmin snuggled in close and pressed a kiss to Bin’s chest, right at his collar. “And you have a very loving heart.”

“What’s this all of a sudden?” Bin asked, smiling but looking a little uncertain.

Dongmin wound his arms around Bin’s neck and pulled him into a kiss, soft and slow and very thorough. Bin hummed happily and kissed him back, and they lay on the couch, kissing for a long time.

“If this is how you’ll welcome me home from the gym I’ll have to work out a lot more,” Bin said.

Dongmin said, “You have very soft lips and I like how you kiss.”

Bin looked at him. “What’s going on?”

“I just wanted to remind you of some of the many reasons I love you.”

Bin started to pull back. “I know it’s been hard promoting without me.”

Dongmin sat up with him. “And I know it’s been hard for you, watching us perform without you.”

Bin closed his eyes and sat back. “Dongminnie, I -”

Dongmin reached out and curled his hand around Bin’s wrist. “No matter what happens, it’s you and me. Whether you perform with us again or not, it’s you and me. I care about  _ you. _ I admire how well you sing and dance and how hard you work. But the things I care about most are your kind heart and your open mind. I’ll never give up on you.”

“I won’t give up on you either,” Bin said.

Dongmin said, “Don’t give up on yourself.”

Bin opened his eyes. “I wouldn’t.”

Dongmin kissed Bin’s bare shoulder. “If you ever feel like you want to give up, come talk to me, and I’ll remind you of some of the reasons you shouldn’t, okay?”

Bin nodded. He said, softly, “I love you.”


	42. 10. A kiss...desperately. JinCha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation from [Chapter 15](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25939324/chapters/63452683).
> 
> Times are desperate. Dongmin asks for a kiss goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@JinjinisUwU](https://twitter.com/JinjinisUwU) on Twitter.

Dongmin’s heart pounded. Sure he’d done his military service, and he’d played in several action dramas, but he was in no way equipped to actually handle any kind of serious combat situation.

The thugs who had Jinwoo were huge and could probably break Dongmin like a twig, but Jinwoo had managed to put up a pretty good fight. Granted, Jinwoo was a super special government agent with all kinds of fancy special training. And Jinwoo wasn’t looking too good. His face was bruised and cut, and his left arm was hanging oddly.

All those months ago, when Dongmin had been out at a fanmeeting and a stranger had cut through the crowd and kissed him, a stranger who was actually a sunbae from high school who Dongmin had had a crush on, Dongmin had thought it was kind of like a dream come true.

And then he and Jinwoo had started dating, and it seemed all right. Sure, Jinwoo was some kind of government agent, but he was mostly an analyst, he’d said.

Obviously that was some kind of cover.

And now Dongmin’s life was too much like a movie for comfort. The bad guys were after Jinwoo, and they had kidnapped Jinwoo’s boyfriend as leverage.

Dongmin knew how the movies went. The boyfriend begged the hero not to give in and either sacrificed himself or died to galvanize the hero into defeating the villains.

Dongmin wasn’t about to let himself die, because he didn’t think that would actually help Jinwoo. This wasn’t a movie. Time to make a desperate move.

“Before you do anything to me, can I just - can I kiss him goodbye?” Dongmin widened his eyes and put a tremble into his voice, let his lip quiver a bit, blinked a lot so his eyes watered. He could cry on command. Not every actor had that skill.

The thugs glanced at their boss.

The boss eyed Dongmin, then Jinwoo. 

“Sure,” the boss said, amused. “Give your loverboy a kiss goodbye.”

The one thug holding Dongmin shoved him, and Dongmin stumbled to his feet. He crossed the room and knelt in front of Jinwoo. 

“I’m sorry,” Jinwoo whispered. He was crying.

Dongmin’s heart broke.

“I didn’t mean for you to -”

“Don’t be sorry,” Dongmin said. “I love you. We’ll be all right.” And he leaned in and kissed Jinwoo.

Hard. And fast. And dirty. He made it good, mouth open, tongues twinning, hands roaming.

He heard the thugs snicker and murmur to each other, and he kept kissing Jinwoo - and he snaked his hands under Jinwoo’s jacket, searching.

And he found it.

The emergency beacon Sanha had talked about one time.

He activated it.

And then he found the other thing that Myungjun had mentioned one time.

(So many things Jinwoo’s fellow agents probably shouldn’t have mentioned in front of a civilian, but being star-struck was a real thing.)

Dongmin tore open the lining of Jinwoo’s jacket pocket, scooped out the little device, activated it.

And then he threw it.

There was a yell.

Dongmin surged to his feet, dragging Jinwoo with him. Jinwoo let out a little cry of pain, but Dongmin headed straight for the nearest door, and then he heard the explosion.

There was more shouting.

Dongmin and Jinwoo ran.


	43. 12. A kiss...in grief. Chaky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sort of a part two to [reherareh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reherareh/pseuds/reherareh)'s [His air, his oxygen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26658769).
> 
> Minhyuk has been strong, but he doesn't have to be anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@eunwooglxy](https://twitter.com/eunwooglxy) on Twitter.

No one outside the team knew Bin and Sanha had been together. Given how closely they’d been working during their subunit promotions, none of the team had been all that surprised when they finally admitted that they were together, but because it was so new - and they were working so hard - everyone had agreed to keep it quiet. They’d tell everyone - their family, close friends - after.

But there would be no after.

They’d finished their promotions, they’d been given a day off, they’d decided to go for a drive.

Only Bin had come back.

The fans were in mourning.

Their families were in mourning.

At the funeral, the team and Sanha’s brothers were supposed to have been the pallbearers, but Bin had collapsed and hadn’t been able to get back up, and then Jinwoo had started crying which had started Myungjun crying, and in the end, only Dongmin and Minhyuk had been able to help Sanha’s brothers carry the coffin.

Back at the dorm, Bin lay in his bunk and refused to move.

Myungjun had been unable to bear sleeping in his own bunk and had ended up sharing a bed with Jinwoo.

Minhyuk wasn’t about to sleep alone in the room he’d once shared with Myungjun and Sanha, so he started sleeping in Dongmin’s room. 

For a week, the third bedroom remained empty. But someone had to clean it out eventually. It was Jinwoo who received the text message. One of Sanha’s brothers would come to retrieve his things.

Bin heard the message and pushed himself away from the dinner table, went to curl up in his bunk and pull the blanket over his head and probably cry some more. 

Myungjun nodded. “Okay. Did he say when? I can -” But he burst into tears and fled from the table.

Jinwoo sighed and pushed himself to his feet, went after Myungjun to comfort him.

Minhyuk said, “I’ll take care of it.”

Myungjun had ventured into the bedroom here and there to grab his own things, but these days he was more or less living out of Jinwoo’s wardrobe. 

“Are you sure?” Dongmin asked.

Minhyuk nodded. “I know all the places where Sanha hid some of his stuff. You go look after Jinwoo, all right?”

Dongmin cast Minhyuk another look, but Minhyuk made a shooing gesture, and Dongmin went.

Minhyuk finished his meal slowly, steeling himself. And then he rolled up his sleeves and headed into the bedroom.

It was almost frozen in time from the day Sanha and Bin had gone on their drive - Sanha’s bed only half made, a handful of guitar picks scattered across the desk he shared with Minhyuk (Myungjun, as hyung, got his own desk), Myungjun’s Iron Man figurines engaged in a clone battle, Minhyuk’s stuffed animals piled haphazardly on his bed, clothes scattered across beds and chairs and the floor.

Minhyuk cast about and found Sanha’s suitcase, the one he used whenever they went on tour, and unzipped it, set it on the bed.

Then he knelt and sorted through the clothes. He folded Sanha’s clothes neatly and set them in the suitcase. Then he cleared Sanha’s belongings out of the desk. He didn’t throw away anything, smoothed out crumpled scraps of paper that had Sanha’s handwriting on them and pressed those into Sanha’s notebooks before stacking those on top of the clothes. He knew where Sanha kept his jewelry, and the little stuffed animals fans had given him, and the lucky figurine Bin had won for him at an arcade one time, the nooks and crannies where he’d hidden a photocard of himself that he was particularly proud of, and the album he’d had signed by Busker Busker right after debut.

Minhyuk packed up Sanha’s guitar and his headphones, did his best to pair up all the socks he could find, and tucked Sanha’s laptop into its case.

The suitcase was bulging by the time Minhyuk zipped it shut. He slid it under his own bunk and then headed back into the den, where Dongmin and Jinwoo were cleaning up supper.

Minhyuk went to the door and started easing Sanha’s shoes out of the line-up of shoes by the door. He’d put them in shoeboxes and store them under the bed with the suitcase until -

“Stop! Stop it!”

A hand came down on Minhyuk’s shoulder, spun him around.

Minhyuk caught himself before he hit the ground.

Bin pounced on a pair of sneakers and hugged them to his chest and started to cry.

“Hyung,” Minhyuk protested.

“Let him be,” Dongmin said quietly.

Minhyuk nodded and picked himself up. “Yeah. I just - I got everything else. I can deal with the shoes later.” He started back toward the bedroom, paused.

There was nothing else for him in there.

He started toward the kitchen, but Dongmin and Jinwoo had finished cleaning up. Minhyuk paused again, confused and a little dazed. What should he do now?

Dongmin put an arm around his shoulders. “Hey. You did well. Don’t worry about it anymore. There’s nothing left to do.”

Minhyuk nodded. “Okay. Um. What should I do now?”

“You don’t have to do anything now,” Dongmin said. “Just rest.”

Minhyuk nodded again. Then he looked over at Bin, who had Myungjun and Jinwoo hugging him.

“Sanha’s really gone, isn’t he?”

“He’s gone,” Dongmin said.

“And he’s not coming back?”

“He’s not.”

Minhyuk bowed his head and felt his breath hitch. Dongmin gathered Minhyuk in his arms and held him tightly.

“You’ve been strong this whole time,” he murmured. “You don’t have to be strong anymore. I’m here.” He pressed a kiss to Minhyuk’s hair.

Minhyuk started to cry. 


	44. 36. A kiss…to give up control. Chaky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dongmin needs help learning choreography. Minhyuk says he needs to learn to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [reherareh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reherareh/pseuds/reherareh).

Dongmin’s mother had always done her best to teach him to be humble, to work hard and assume he would have no favors or easy paths in life. But he also knew he’d been blessed with good looks and a good memory and a sharp intellect and a strong, athletic body. Many things came naturally to him, and most things that didn’t come naturally to him he could work at until he excelled at them.

Dancing was not one of those things. Singing he could do all right and he was getting better at it. But dancing was hard. Thanks to years of basketball and soccer he could figure out the basics of choreography. Knowing where to be and when was like learning basketball and soccer plays. Getting his hands and feet in the right place was a bit trickier. Looking good, though.

That was nearly impossible.

Always, he heard the same complaints from the instructors. 

_ Dongmin, you’re too stiff. Dongmin, you’re a fraction of a beat off. Dongmin, your angles are wrong. Dongmin, you’re not feeling the music. _

Dongmin was a talented pianist. He could keep a beat just fine, had practiced diligently with a metronome and everything.

Dongmin had to admit to himself that despite all his mother’s careful teaching, her occasional,  _ Hey ugly, don’t get too full of yourself,  _ he’d become complacent with his own competence. He was used to  _ getting _ things on the first or second try, or getting things enough that he had the confidence that a few more practice rounds on his own would get him the competence he needed, and honing his skills from there would give him the excellence he  _ wanted. _

Now Dongmin would have to swallow his pride and ask for help. Not from an instructor - they were just as tired of him as he was of them. No, he’d ask one of the other trainees. As a student, he’d never been derisive of students who came to him for help, always praised them for reaching out. He’d never considered things from the other side of the equation, how hard it was to ask.

But here he was, standing in the doorway of the practice room watching Park Minhyuk breeze his way through choreography Dongmin wouldn’t dream of even attempting. Dongmin could have asked Bin, but if things didn’t go well, he’d have to see Bin all day at school. Minhyuk was a couple of grades below them, and he’d be easier to avoid.

The song ended, and Minhyuk shook himself out, then went to shut the music off.

Dongmin cleared his throat.

“Ah, hyung.” Minhyuk glanced over. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering,” Dongmin said. “If you could help me. With the choreo we’ve been learning. In regular training.”

Minhyuk  _ got _ dance the way Dongmin got, well, everything academic. Dongmin could see it in his eyes, the way he took in the instructors, and also in the way he moved. Minhyuk understood all the things the instructors didn’t say about how to do a turn, how to hold his arms for a pose.

“Sure,” Minhyuk easily, no hesitation. “Which part?”

“Ah - all of it.”

“Okay.” Minhyuk beckoned, and then he went to his phone to queue up the music. “You warmed up?”

Dongmin nodded.

“Let’s do a run-through just so I can see what you’ve got, and we’ll go into detail work from there. How much time do you have?”

“Till curfew,” Dongmin said.

“Me too.” Minhyuk flashed him a brief grin.

He had dimples. He smiled so rarely that Dongmin forgot how bright his smile could be.

Minhyuk started up the music, and Dongmin moved to stand beside him.

“Away from the mirror,” Minhyuk said. “In front of me, so I can see you.”

Dongmin bit his lip but nodded. Without the mirror, he wouldn’t be able to see Minhyuk if he lost track of the choreography, but he thought he had it memorized pretty well.

Even though Dongmin had had the sole scrutiny of the instructors on him before, having Minhyuk watch him felt different. Maybe because it was just the two of them in the practice room? Dongmin only stumbled a few times, made it to the end of the song all right.

Minhyuk said, “You’re not a bad dancer. BTS choreo is hard. Your problem is that you’re -”

“Stiff, I know.” Dongmin sighed.

“You’re too worried about losing control,” Minhyuk said.

Dongmin turned to him. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve memorized the choreo pretty well, and you memorize choreo pretty fast, all things considered,” Minhyuk said.

“Not as fast as you,” Dongmin said.

Minhyuk made a dismissive gesture. “I’ve been dancing since I was four. Don’t compare yourself to me. You’ve only been dancing for a few months. I’ve seen a lot of trainees come and go. You’re doing really well. Your problem is that you’re worried about being in control all the time. But dancing is about letting go and feeling the music.”

Dongmin stared at him. “But the instructors are always talking about your impressive body control.”

Minhyuk sighed. “Mostly they mean my body does what I want when I want. But I’m not over-thinking about it like you are. When you’re walking, do you think  _ I bend my knee, I lift my foot, I slide my foot forward, I put my foot down, I straighten my knee? _ You don’t.”

“I don’t think that when I dance either,” Dongmin said.

“But you’re thinking part of it. You’re counting in your head,  _ one two three turn, five six seven step,” _ Minhyuk said.

“How can you tell?”

“I can see it in your face. Also sometimes you move your lips.”

Dongmin scrubbed a hand over his face. “But I can’t let go. I can’t -”

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” Minhyuk asked.

Dongmin recoiled. “What? No. What does that have to do with anything?”

Trainees weren’t supposed to date.

“Kissing is really complicated if you think about it. Which way do you turn your head? When do you open your mouth and use your tongue? What do you do with your hands? But you don’t think about it. You just do it. You just give up control and go with the feeling,” Minhyuk said. “Dancing is like that.”

Dongmin stared at him. “Have  _ you _ kissed anyone?”

“Sure. Kissing’s fun.” Then Minhyuk narrowed his eyes. “Wait, you’ve never kissed anyone? But you’re so handsome. Surely -”

Dongmin blushed and looked away. “I was always busy with school.”

“Whoa. Ugly old me has kissed but beautiful you never has? This world isn’t right.” Minhyuk looked both amused and shocked.

“You’re not ugly,” Dongmin said.

Minhyuk tossed his head. “Compared to you, all of us are ugly. But - come on. Let me turn on some different music, and I need you to just move. Feel the music. You can close your eyes and not look at me. Pretend I’m not here. Move how the music makes you feel.” He started for his phone.

Dongmin caught his wrist and tugged him back around so they were face to face. He said, “Will you kiss me?”

It occurred to him, too late, that Minhyuk probably only kissed girls.

Minhyuk said, “Don’t you want your first kiss to be from someone you like?”

Dongmin said, “Make me lose control.”

Minhyuk looked at him for a long moment. He said, “Your first kiss should be from someone you like. Let me turn on some music, and let’s dance, all right?”

Dongmin said, “I think you’re handsome, and a good singer, and you dance better than I could ever hope to dance.”

Minhyuk turned and faced him fully. “I’m sorry I laughed earlier. It’s all right if you haven’t kissed anyone yet. Your first kiss should be from someone you like. Don’t have regrets because it’s from someone you don’t like. Now come on. Let’s dance.”

He extricated himself from Dongmin’s grip gently and went to turn on some music. 

Dongmin did his best to do as Minhyuk instructed, closed his eyes and just moved to the music.

When he opened his eyes, Minhyuk was still swaying to the final notes of the song. When the music finally ended, Minhyuk opened his eyes and grinned at him like nothing awkward had happened.

“Now, come on, let’s turn on the song you’re doing the choreo to, and we’ll free dance to that, and  _ then _ we’ll work on the choreo, okay?”

Dongmin nodded.

It worked. Dongmin wasn’t amazingly better, but he could hear things in the music he hadn’t heard before, was hitting the beats better, and he liked the music more, because it made him feel, and he could loosen up a bit while he was dancing to it, and at his next evaluation, the instructors were pleased at his progress.

So every time he had to learn a new song, he’d find a moment to himself, turn on the music, and just  _ move _ to it.

Minhyuk never mentioned Dongmin’s awkward request for a kiss, and he never asked whether Dongmin had kissed anyone, and Dongmin was fiercely glad that no one else asked, and then there was iTeen Rising Star and To Be Continued and debut and comeback and no time for kissing at all.

Through it all, Dongmin watched Minhyuk, watched him work hard in school and work hard as an idol. Minhyuk was an amazing performer - a stellar dancer, a much better singer than anyone gave him credit for, now that he was the team’s lead rapper. He was also a cheat at games, and easily offended and sulky, and incredibly possessive of his banana milk. But he was also fiercely protective of his teammates, always knew when Myungjun needed comforting, was ready to stay up all night and help Dongmin learn choreography for a dozen popular songs for a variety show he’d been signed up for, was willing to sing a guide track for a song Jinwoo was writing.

Their second year they hit the ground running. The lack of a music video for their fourth album was a bit of a stumbling block, but they carried on with Baby, and then onto Crazy Sexy Cool, and then -

Then there was nothing.

Minhyuk graduated from high school but wasn’t even able to attend the ceremony.

Dongmin signed on to film a major drama, his first leading role. He hoped it would save the team; if it didn’t, it’d look like he was trying to save himself while the others went down with a sinking ship.

The company managed to scrape together material and money for a special album for fans. There would be a music video but no formal promotions.

It was better than nothing.

Minhyuk’s coming of age day passed with little fanfare. His parents sent him a bottle of cologne and some money (his last red envelope now that he was an adult) and a bouquet of flowers. They were delivered to Minhyuk at the company while he worked on choreography for their special single.

Back at the dorm, Dongmin found Minhyuk.

“Congratulations,” he said. “It’s your coming-of-age day.”

“Thank you.” Minhyuk smiled tiredly and curled up on the couch.

Dongmin sat beside him. “I know you’ve received gifts from your family, but - I thought I’d offer you one last gift.”

Minhyuk shook his head. “Hyung, no, you don’t have to.”

Dongmin leaned in and said, quietly, “Make me lose control.”

Minhyuk’s eyes widened. “You - I thought you’d forgotten all about that.”

“You said I should have my first kiss from someone I like. I like you. Make me lose control.”

“Your first kiss?” Minhyuk echoed, sitting up straighter.

“Don’t let my first kiss be for this drama.”

Minhyuk searched Dongmin’s gaze. Then he said, “All right,” and pulled Dongmin in close.

Dongmin couldn’t really describe what happened after that, other than that it felt so good, and Minhyuk was an amazing kisser.

And Myungjun’s scream could have shattered glass when he walked in on them.


	45. 43. A kiss...out of greed. Chaky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minhyuk wants Dongmin all to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [catfacekathyrn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/catfacekathryn/pseuds/catfacekathryn).

“Hey, Eunwoo, come get drinks with us,” Gayoung said. 

Dongmin paused at the door of the soundstage. “Well -”

“You said you didn’t have a schedule tomorrow besides filming with us.” Inyeop waggled his eyebrows.

“Hyung, have you eaten?”

Dongmin turned.

Minhyuk was leaning in the doorway. He was wearing black jeans and a black tank top and black denim jacket that was short, and he was all legs.

“He was about to come eat and get drinks with us,” Gayoung said.

Inyeop tilted his head. “You’re Chani’s friend, right? Min…?”

“Park Minhyuk,” he said, inclining his head politely. “Chani trained at our agency before he moved on to FNC and then debuted with SF9.”

Gayoung’s eyes widened. “Oh. You’re one of Eunwoo’s teammates.” 

Minhyuk nodded. “You were on that food show with Bin-hyung, right?”

“I was.” Gayoung looked Minhyuk up and down. “You came here to pick up Eunwoo?”

Minhyuk said, “I heard it might rain, so I brought an umbrella.” He lifted one hand and twirled a small umbrella on a strap.

Dongmin frowned. “Did you come with the van?”

“I told Manager not to bother with the van - I figured we could go for japchae and rice and then take a taxi home.” Minhyuk smiled faintly.

Gayoung laughed. “It’s so sweet of your dongsaeng to come pick you up at the end of the day, like a little brother waiting for his big brother after school.”

“Are all idol groups this close?” Inyeop asked. He had a vested interest in the answer, since he was playing a character who’d been an idol trainee.

“Some more than others,” Dongmin said.

Gayoung turned a cute pout on Minhyuk. “Can’t we borrow him for one night? You get to see his handsome face every day.”

Minhyuk said, “Actually, with how busy he is, when we’re not doing group promotions, even though we live together we don’t always get to see each other. I joke with fans that I get to see his handsome face every day, but half the time if I want to see him I have to check SNS for selcas too.” He raised his eyebrows. “So. Japchae and rice?”

“But you do get to live with him,” Gayoung said.

Minhyuk straightened up and stepped into the foyer of the sound stage, held out the umbrella. “I do. Sometimes, if I’m lucky, I get to sleep beside him. But I haven’t been so lucky these days, and I’ve missed him, and I’ve come to claim what’s mine. You’ll have him all day tomorrow. You’ll indulge me if I’m a little greedy, won’t you?”

Dongmin felt pinned by the intensity in Minhyuk’s gaze. He reached out, caught the umbrella, tugged. Caught Minhyuk in his arms and kissed him. Minhyuk was all his, and Dongmin finally had the chance to indulge and enjoy.

Inyeop said,  _ “Heol.” _

“What if someone sees?” Gayoung hissed.

Minhyuk pulled back and said, “Everyone else is gone. And if anyone asks, well, what’s a little  _ such a good night _ between teammates, hm? Maybe Inyeop wanted to see up close, for research purposes. How to keep a straight face when skinship like that can be awkward.”

“A straight face indeed,” Inyeop said with a snicker. He waved at hand at Dongmin. “Go. Get your japchae and rice. We’ll see you in the morning.”

Dongmin laced his fingers with Minhyuk’s and led him to the door. It was raining, so he opened the umbrella and tugged Minhyuk against his side. 

“Since when are you so possessive?” he asked.

“Just wanted to remind you who you’re coming home to,” Minhyuk said loftily.

“Gayoung’s right, though. You get to see my face all the time.”

“And your body, and I get your kisses, and -”

“And let’s go get that japchae and rice so you have energy for what comes next,” Dongmin said.

Minhyuk grinned and pressed closer to his side. “You’re on.”


	46. 35. A kiss...to gain something. Binwoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bin kisses Dongmin. He'll have to wait to kiss him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [@dufstro](https://twitter.com/dufstro) on Twitter.

Dongmin sat at the bar, nursing his drink slowly. He was sitting beside Myungjun but not really interacting with him. Myungjun was nursing his own drink and doodling on a napkin. He had a pile of napkins beside him covered in sketches, mostly of Jinwoo’s face. This happened every time he and Jinwoo fought. As soon as they made up, he’d go back to sketching Jinwoo properly in his sketchbooks, and all would be right in the world.

Till then -

The man who slid onto the barstool beside Dongmin was tall, handsome, had broad shoulders. He had elegant, cat-like features.

On the other side of Myungjun, Minhyuk came alert. He caught Dongmin’s eye, nodded, and then resumed nursing his own drink.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you here before,” the man said.

Moon Bin, twenty three.

Dongmin glanced at him, kept his smile small and understated. “Well, it is my first time.”

Bin’s smile widened, and he went from feline-sexy to puppy-cute. “Can I buy you a drink?” His voice was a surprisingly light tenor; Dongmin would have expected such a tall, muscular man to have a much deeper voice.

Dongmin said, “Sure.”

Bin flagged down Sanha, the bartender, and Dongmin finished the drink he was on and accepted the new one and proceeded to barely touch it, focusing all his attention on Bin and their light, flirty conversation, trusting that Minhyuk was keeping an eye on Myungjun.

The bar was dimly-lit. All the patrons were men; it was a very specific kind of bar, so no one would care when Bin leaned in, brushed a lock of hair out of Dongmin’s eyes, and kissed him.

It was a good kiss, soft, thorough, heated.

Dongmin could have lost himself in the kiss, but he felt Bin’s hand sliding inside his jacket, toward one of the inner pockets.

He curled his hand around Bin’s wrist and stopped him, pulled back.

“Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll triple it if you turn on them - and I’ll convince Prince Myungjun not to have you beheaded for treason,” he whispered.

Bin froze. He tried to pull away, but then Minhyuk was beside him, boxing him in.

Hyunwoo, Jooheon, and Changkyun had already stepped up to protect Myungjun, who was startled by the commotion.

Bin’s expression hardened. “It’s not about money.”

Dongmin tilted his head. “It’s not about philosophy either. You’re not a true believer in what the other side is selling.”

Bin looked away. Finally he said, “They have my sister.”

Dongmin tapped his radio and said, “Jinwoo, find Moon Bin’s sister.”

Myungjun made a small, sad noise at Jinwoo’s name.

Bin shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”

Dongmin slid off the barstool, tossed Sanha a wad of cash for his time. “For us, it is that simple.”

Bin stared at him. “You kissed me back.”

Dongmin said, “You kissed me first.”

Bin said, “People don’t just  _ kiss _ like that.”

Dongmin said, softly, “You’ll have to wait till all this is over to kiss me again.”

Bin said, “My sister’s name is Sua. They grabbed her while she was on campus.”


	47. 26. A kiss...as an apology. Myungjin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jinwoo and Myungjun have a miscommunication and need to apologize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the lovely [vonseal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vonseal/pseuds/vonseal). Also set in the same 'verse as the previous chapter.

Jinwoo stepped into the Prince’s chambers and caught Dongmin’s eye. They’d found and rescued Moon Bin’s sister.

Dongmin nodded and glanced at Minhyuk, who reached out and unlocked Moon Bin’s shackles.

Myungjun, who’d been sitting on the edge of the bed surrounded by Hyunwoo, Jooheon, and Changkyun, lifted his head.

“Is it done?” he asked.

Jinwoo bowed. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Myungjun flicked his wrist. “Everyone out.”

Hyunwoo, Jooheon, and Changkyun made a beeline for the servants’ door behind one of the heavy draperies near the east window.

Dongmin and Minhyuk escorted Bin toward the main door.

Jinwoo followed them.

“Except Guardsman Park,” Myungjun said.

Minhyuk and Jinwoo paused obediently.

“Except Guardsman Park Jinwoo,” Myungjun corrected himself.

Dongmin whisked Moon Bin and Minhyuk out of the room and closed the door soundlessly behind them.

Jinwoo clasped his hands behind his back and ducked his chin deferentially. “Your Highness?”

Myungjun’s voice wavered when he said, “You said the new guardsman was cute.”

Jinwoo blinked. “Pardon?”

“Guardsman Ok.”

“Jinwook-ssi?” Jinwoo considered. “Well, he has a cute personality.”

Myungjun pinned him with a glare. “You said the other new guardsman has a pretty singing voice.”

It took Jinwoo a moment to figure out which new member of the royal guard Myungjun meant, because a whole new squadron had just been added to the force, and their welcome party at the local noraebang had been kind of wild.

“Ah - Park Hyungseok-ssi,” Jinwoo said carefully.

“You remember their names. You used to never learn their names for at least a month,” Myungjun said.

Because during the worst of the conspiracy to overthrow Myungjun’s family’s dynasty, the life expectancy of royal guards had been low, and there had been no point in getting attached to new recruits.

Jinwoo cleared his throat. “He has a pleasant voice, if you like that folksy trot sound.”

Myungjun frowned. “You don’t really like trot music.”

“Not really, no, but we were at the noraebang.”

Myungjun narrowed his eyes. “I’ve seen Guardsman Ok. He is very pretty.”

Jinwoo said, “Your Highness -”

“Don’t call me that. Not when it’s just us. Not when I’m talking about  _ us.” _

Jinwoo closed his eyes, took a deep breath, opened his eyes. “Myungjunnie. I meant he has a cute personality. He’s...kind of like an old man sometimes. He’s awkward. You can tell he was probably raised by his grandparents. He also really likes trot music. All the songs he sang were his grandmother’s favorite songs.”

“Why this sudden interest in trot music?”

_ “You _ like trot music. I thought, the next time you wanted to go to the noraebang, you might want people besides me and Minhyuk and Dongmin to sing with you,” Jinwoo said. He sighed. “Were you jealous because you thought I was flirting with other guards? Is that what this whole drinking at the bar was about?”

Myungjun looked away. “I know it’s difficult, for the two of us. Besides being two men, I am who I am, and you are who you are, and -” He was on his feet and across the room in a few steps. “Jinwoo, I -”

Jinwoo looked at him. “You what?”

Myungjun kissed him. It was fast and desperate, and Jinwoo could taste his tears. Jinwoo held him tightly and kissed him back, softened the kiss till Myungjun’s sobs subsided.

“I’m sorry,” Myungjun whispered. “I didn’t mean to be so jealous. It’s just - you’re so handsome, and you could have anyone you want, and I’m the second son, and I can’t really have anyone, and -”

Jinwoo kissed him on the mouth, a brief, warm press of lips. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I didn’t explain. They’re nice, and I think you could be friends with them, and I think you’d be happy with a few more friends, and it makes me happy to see you happy.”

“I love you, Jinie,” Myungjun said softly.

“I love you too, Junie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why yes maybe I watched The King: The Eternal Monarch and enjoyed it a bit too much, okay?
> 
> Also all the members of Super Five are super cute and you should check out [All Eyes On Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tC-dBkbMkFk).


	48. 18. A kiss...as encouragement. Chaky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minhyuk is going to sing solo, and he needs a little encouragement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [yihua](https://yihua.dreamwidth.org/).

Dongmin stood beside Minhyuk. They’d taken several selcas that wouldn’t be uploaded to SNS until after Minhyuk got eliminated, whenever that was.

“Are you nervous?” Dongmin asked.

Minhyuk cast him a look. “Of course I’m nervous.”

Dongmin squeezed his shoulder. “You’ll do great. You’re a great singer.” He leaned and lowered his voice. “And while your competitor has a lovely voice, I have heard him sing, and I promise you’re better than him. You’ll make it through this round, and you’ll represent Astro and yourself well. And no matter what happens, I’ll be proud of you.”

Minhyuk ducked his head. “Thanks, hyung.”

Dongmin cast a look around. Plenty of people in the green room were casting him odd looks. Some people recognized him; others were curious about why he was there when he was too overdressed to be staff but he wasn’t dressed like a competitor either.

“Here, let me help you with your costume.” Dongmin tugged Minhyuk into one of the small cordoned-off spaces used as a dressing room - and drew him into a kiss.

It was brief, but it was firm and warm.

“Hyung!” Minhyuk hissed when he pulled back. Though he was blushing, he looked pleased.

Dongmin straightened Minhyuk’s uniform shirt, checked the buttons and creases. Minhyuk was dressed as a pilot; his competitor for the first round was dressed as a sailor.

“You’ve got this,” Dongmin said, just as firmly as the kiss had been. “Remember how much the fans loved your OST?”

“They’ll know it’s me immediately.”

“And they’ll be so proud and excited for you.” Dongmin reached up and brushed a lock of hair out of Minhyuk’s eyes. “You did so well on Dance War. The judges loved you the most. The judges here will be blown away. What have you picked as your talents here?”

“Dancing, obviously, for the first round. Taekwondo board breaking for the second round. Brick-breaking might be a bit risky if they don’t set it up right,” Minhyuk said.

“If you do your turns, one of the judges will guess who you are,” Dongmin said.

“Maybe,” Minhyuk said. “Most people outside of our fans don’t know I can sing. Keeping them guessing is half the fun.”

Dongmin smiled. “True.”

A staff member arrived to help Minhyuk get his microphone and mask set up, and Dongmin stepped back, let her work. She was startled when Minhyuk did a test spin to make sure he wouldn’t lose the battery pack for the microphone while he danced.

Then Dongmin reached out and caught Minhyuk’s hand in his, smoothed his thumb over the ring Minhyuk wore; Dongmin wore a matching one. It was the gesture they shared in lieu of a kiss, when cameras and strangers were around.

“Fighting!” Dongmin said.

Minhyuk flashed him a heart sign, and then he followed his competitor out to the stage. They’d practiced their number together several times, and Dongmin was confident Minhyuk would win, but a kiss for luck and encouragement never hurt.

Dongmin turned to the monitor and smiled when he heard the applause that greeted Minhyuk. He knew Minhyuk would win.


	49. 41. A kiss...because the world is saved. Binwoohyuk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three years after the world ended, help comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [stepheny0223](https://stepheny0223.dreamwidth.org/).

When the world ended, they were three idol trainees on the way home from a late-night practice, Dongmin trailing behind Bin and Minhyuk, jealous of their closeness, the way they had their heads bent close as they talked, hands not-quite-touching. They’d been trainees for the longest, and they were so damn talented, and Dongmin had gone from being the academic and athletic golden boy at his school to crying every day because the instructors yelled at him for his subpar dancing and singing.

And then the alien fighter jets appeared in the sky, and the lights beamed people up and beamed the aliens down, and there was chaos. Destruction. Aliens shooting people with their light rifles and cutting them down with their swords. And sucking the life out of them with the gaping maws in their right hands.

It was Bin who dragged Dongmin out of the path of a beam of light. It was Minhyuk who managed to open a door to a maintenance tunnel into the subway.

And there they hid while the world ended. While they read the increasingly horrifying - and hopeless - news stories on their phones. While they traded desperate text messages with their families until cell service died. And then the power went out.

And then food ran out.

Running water lasted for a long time.

Dongmin volunteered to get food first, because he didn’t think he could stand to face either Bin or Minhyuk if one of them didn’t survive the food run.

He figured it was pity or relief, the way Minhyuk kissed him when he made it back alive, but Bin didn’t seem upset or jealous, and Dongmin slept between them that night, on the cold cement floor of the little bunker that was their temporary haven.

Bin went on the next food run when their rations ran out.

Dongmin sat outside the door after Minhyuk pounced on Bin after his return. He did his best to pretend he didn’t notice how disheveled their clothes were when Bin told him he could come back in, help divvy up the food and supplies.

Dongmin still got to sleep between them.

And then it was Minhyuk’s turn to go on a food run.

He came back with his backpack full, blood spattered on his face, an alien sword in one hand, and an alien’s head in the other.

His expression was terribly blank, and he didn’t say a word for three days.

Bin tried to comfort him, hold him and kiss him, but nothing worked. There was no reaction at all, just Minhyuk woodenly going about his daily tasks.

And then Dongmin said, “Hey, you’re safe now. You’re here, with us.”

And Minhyuk started to cry. Dongmin panicked, scrambled to apologize, but Minhyuk kissed him, and then he kissed Bin, and he fell to his knees and kept on crying. Bin knelt beside him and beckoned for Dongmin, and all three of them ended up cuddling on the floor till Minhyuk’s sobs subsided. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Bin sighed and pressed a kiss to Dongmin’s hair, and after that it somehow became normal for both boys to kiss Dongmin, sometimes just a brief peck, sometimes a more lingering press of lips, and he was  _ part _ of them in a way he hadn’t been before.

Sometimes it was hard for Dongmin to trust that he wasn’t part of them out of pity or panic or something else, because the world had ended, but these days it was the three of them roaming the remains of the city armed with swords and rifles scavenged from aliens they’d killed, looking for food or things they could use to improve their home, such as it was. 

For three years, it had been just the three of them, avoiding roving bands of humans looking to prey on them and take what they had, or aliens who’d come back to Earth to pick off a few humans here and there for a snack - though best as anyone could tell, now that Earth had been culled almost to human extinction, the aliens had moved on.

Between Minhyuk’s martial arts experience now battle-honed, Bin’s nutritional knowledge, and Dongmin’s scientific and engineering know-how, and a lot of luck, they’d survived well. It was the three of them not just against the world, but the universe at large. 

But no matter what, it was the three of them.

Bin was never jealous when Minhyuk was with Dongmin, and Minhyuk was never jealous when Bin was with Dongmin, and Dongmin, for the most part, wasn’t jealous when they were with each other, because they had each other, and they were alive.

They took turns keeping watch at night, so they never got to spend the night all together, hadn’t since those first few fraught nights hiding in the subway tunnels.

Dongmin was sitting on a stool at the door of the apartment they had commandeered as their outpost, sword in arm’s reach, scanning the horizon, when he heard someone say, in English,

“Found some!”

The aliens spoke English.

Dongmin reached for his sword and slid to his feet. He shouted for the other two. They woke fast, scrambled for their weapons and their emergency packs, ready to defend their home but run if necessary.

Dongmin slid in front of them, sword poised to strike. Boots thumped ominously on the pavement.

Worse than the humans who preyed on other humans were the humans who sold fellow humans out to the aliens.

Fear curled in Dongmin’s gut at the dozen people in gray uniforms and military-style gear who spread out in front of him, but he gripped his sword tighter. He’d die for Minhyuk and Bin, and he’d kill for them. 

“Hey, we come in peace,” a man said in English, and then, in very bad Korean, “Peace friend?”

Dongmin said, in slow, careful English, “How do we know you won’t sell us to the aliens?”

The man said, “Damn. It’s been bad since we’ve been gone. There are Wraith-worshippers here too.”

There was a murmur among the men and women with him. 

“I’m Lieutenant Colonel Evan Lorne of the United States Air Force. I’m here looking for survivors,” the man said. “You don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to.”

“Where would you even take us? America was attacked too,” Dongmin said. 

“America?” Bin asked. Neither he nor Minhyuk were particularly good at English. 

Colonel Lorne said, “Our warship is in orbit above Earth.” 

“Orbit?” Dongmin echoed.

Colonel Lorne nodded. He was shorter than Dongmin and Bin, but broad across the shoulders, probably seemed broader because of the body armor he was wearing. He did have an American flag patch on his left sleeve. 

“How would we even get there?” Dongmin asked. 

“Hyung, what’s going on?” Minhyuk asked. 

Colonel Lorne reached up and tapped his radio earpiece, “Lorne for  _ Daedalus,  _ do you copy? Over. I have a twenty on some survivors. Send down a medic to check them over, will you? I’ve got three males, late teens. Over.”

“Dongminnie?” Bin asked.

Dongmin said, “They say they’re from the American military and they’re here to rescue us, that they have a spaceship of their own.”

“Humans don’t have spaceships, and those aren’t real Air Force uniforms,” Minhyuk said. “When I was down in Busan as a kid, I’d see American servicemen, and they weren’t dressed like that.”

Before they could debate further, there was a beam of light.

Minhyuk had the fastest reflexes, dove toward it with his sword out.

The soldiers shouted.

And then a human woman appeared. She wore a gray uniform like Colonel Lorne’s, only she had no body armor, and her uniform had yellow patches on it. She was carrying a white bag with red crosses on it.

She was a medic.

She screamed.

Minhyuk froze, his sword inches from her body.

All the soldiers had their guns pointed at Minhyuk.

Colonel Lorne shouted, “Stand down! Stand down! Dammit, should have seen that coming. Look, we also have beaming tech, but we’re not friends with the Wraith, the - the bad aliens. Marie is a medic, okay? She’s here to help.”

The woman straightened up. The flag on her left sleeve was the South Korean flag. She said, in fluent Korean,

“My name is Ko Mari, and I’m a nurse.”

“How do we know you won’t sell us to the aliens?” Minhyuk demanded.

“You really have no way of knowing that, besides our word,” Nurse Ko said. “Look, can you put your sword down? The soldiers won’t put their guns down till you put your sword down, and there are a lot more guns than there are swords.”

“Minhyukie,” Dongmin said. “She’s right. Just - we should hear them out.”

His heart was pounding. After so long, did he dare hope? Did any of them dare hope that rescue was really here? 

Minhyuk lowered his sword slowly, but he didn’t relax an iota.

Nurse Ko smiled gently. “Your name is Minhyuk? How old are you?”

“Eighteen,” he said. 

Nurse Ko set down her bag. “I’m going to check your vitals, okay? This here is a very fancy scanner, so I don’t even have to touch you. What about your friends? How old are they?”

“My boyfriends,” Minhyuk said, challenge in his gaze. “Binnie and Dongminnie.”

Nurse Ko nodded, her expression completely calm, and Dongmin felt something in his chest loosen.

“I’m nineteen, and Dongmin is twenty,” Bin said.

“How long have you been together?” Nurse Ko asked.

“Minhyuk and I have known each other since Minhyuk was in fifth grade and I was in sixth grade. Dongmin transferred to the same school as us six months before the world ended,” Bin said.

Sympathy shone in Nurse Ko’s eyes, but she didn’t stop working. She had a strange gray boxy device in one hand, which she waved over Minhyuk.

“What is that?” Dongmin asked, itching to go stand beside Minhyuk, but the soldiers were still watching him warily.

“It’s a medical scanner,” Nurse Ko said. “It’s very advanced technology.”

“You have a lot of advanced technology,” Dongmin said. “Warships in space. Teleportation beams. How do we know you didn’t get it from the aliens?”

“We did get it from aliens,” Nurse Ko said, “but not those aliens.”

“That sounds crazy,” Bin said. “But then aliens who suck the life out of people is crazy, so.”

Nurse Ko nodded gently. “You’ve been through a lot. For how much you’ve been through, you are very healthy. Although, did you break your arm when you were seven?”

Minhyuk stared at her. “How did you know that?”

“It showed up on the scanner. Healed fracture,” Nurse Ko said.

“Taekwondo tournament,” Minhyuk said.

“When you were seven?”

“I go hard.” Minhyuk shrugged.

“Who next?” Nurse Ko asked.

Dongmin stepped up. He was given a clean bill of health, as was Bin, although Bin had fractured a few bones in his foot when he was twelve.

“Dancing, probably,” Bin said.

“Dancing?” Nurse Ko asked.

Bin said, “Before the world ended, we were idol trainees.”

Nurse Ko looked him up and down. “I can see that. You are all very handsome.”

“Marie?” Colonel Lorne asked.

She answered in flawless English. “They’re healthy. They’re clean.”

“Do they want to come with us?”

Nurse Ko looked at each of them. “Do you want to come with us?”

“Where?” Dongmin asked. “Besides your spaceship.”

“To another planet in another galaxy,” she said. “It’s where we’ve been living for the past fifteen years. It took us a few years to get back here. We didn’t realize the Wraith had made it to Earth, and by the time we found out - we had to fight them in that galaxy before we could make it back here.”

It was too much to take in. Dongmin closed his eyes. A hand closed around his wrist.

Bin said, “What do we have left here? If we all go, it’ll still be us.”

“You wouldn’t have to stay there forever,” Nurse Ko said. “But you could be safe there while we clean things up here. While we take care of the Wraith once and for all.”

“The Wraith?” Dongmin tested the word.

“The aliens who did this to Earth.”

“So you’re here to save the world? Too little, too late,” Minhyuk said.

Nurse Ko said, “As long as humans are still alive, we can save this world.”

Minhyuk pressed his lips into a thin line.

Dongmin said, “Maybe they have someone who can fix your phone, so you can see pictures of your family again.”

Bin reached out and curled his hand around Minhyuk’s. “Minhyukie?”

He closed his eyes and let out a shaky sigh. “All right. Let’s go.”

“You can pack up any of your belongings,” Nurse Ko said.

Dongmin nodded, and they headed back to their shelter to grab clothes and their phones and other things they thought they might miss. They stuffed everything they could into their big packs, and then they reassembled beside Nurse Ko.

“Don’t be afraid,” she said, and handed each of them a little plastic device.

“What’s this?” Dongmin asked.

“It’ll get you onto the spaceship,” she said.

The three of them huddled together.

“Love you,” Bin whispered, and kissed Minhyuk.

Minhyuk kissed Dongmin and squeezed his hand.

Dongmin kissed Bin, and all three of them were swallowed in a beam of light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry too much apocalypse and not enough kissing.
> 
> Also cookies to my Astro readers who can identify the crossover :)


	50. 37. A kiss...without a motive. Myungky.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Myungjun helps Minhyuk with the cover of Someday the Boy, and kisses him just because he can.
> 
> Set in [The Strongest Form of Magic](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641382) series.

“Let’s hear it one more time?” Myungjun asked. He sat down beside Minhyuk and closed his eyes, tilted his head, waited expectantly.

Minhyuk cleared his throat, and then he began to sing the chorus again.

_ Time has since raised me _

_ And tells me to step into the world now _

_ My past self would then ask me _

_ If I’m happy enough to smile now _

Myungjun smiled to himself. Minhyuk had a truly beautiful voice, powerful and flexible. He rarely sang on their songs because his role on the team was as the main dancer and lead rapper, and when he did sing it was to provide harmonies. Early on in their career he’d been allowed to do high notes and adlibs during live performances. Fans had been blown away, and rightly so, startled by the power and depth of his voice.

But this song required a more delicate touch, sweeter, more poignant emotion, and Minhyuk had to rein in his power. With everything he did, he went hard. Minhyuk was many things — beautiful, graceful — but delicate was not one of them.

“Don’t be afraid to let your voice get a little breathy,” Myungjun said. “Let it be a little lighter, a little sweeter. I know your voice is naturally fuller, where Dongmin’s is naturally breathy. But if you put that breath in there, it gives your voice a bit of vulnerability, that cry, that makes it sound like you’re almost weeping.”

Minhyuk frowned. “Show me, hyung?”

Myungjun nodded and cleared his throat, and then he began to sing the same song, injecting a mournfulness and wistfulness into his tone. He too was known for his power, his ability to belt notes live from day one, had learned control and emotion over time.

Minhyuk leaned in and listened, brow furrowed, biting his bottom lip, and he looked absolutely adorable with how hard he was concentrating.

When Myungjun finished, Minhyuk nodded.

“I think I understand.”

Myungjun smiled encouragingly. “Go again.”

Minhyuk obeyed, and there it was, the mournful tone, the longing and the pain, and for one moment Myungjun thought he saw beyond the artistry of Minhyuk’s effort, saw the remnants of the boy who’d left home the summer after fifth grade and sacrificed half of his childhood and all of his adolescence to become an idol.

“That was it,” Myungjun said.

Minhyuk perked up. “Really?”

“Yeah. Do that again in the studio and your fans will cry,” Myungjun said. “In a good way.”

Minhyuk snuggled closer to Myungjun and rested his head on Myungjun’s shoulder. “Thanks so much for helping me, hyung. I really appreciate it.”

Myungjun reveled in Minhyuk’s warmth and closeness. “When it’s just us, you don’t have to call me hyung. You can just call me Myungjunnie.”

Minhyuk sat up. “What? But —”

“When I date boys, I don’t do hyung-dongsaeng, so. Call me Myungjunnie.” Myungjun smiled at him. “All right?”

Minhyuk bit his lip. “All right.”

“All right…?”

“All right, Myungjunnie.”

Myungjun smiled again, leaned in, and kissed him, just because he could. Because they were together now, because Minhyuk had confessed his feelings and because Myungjun liked him back and it was just the two of them in the dorm and they could just  _ be. _

Minhyuk kissed him back, because he was always an eager lover, and soon he and Myungjun were stumbling for the bedroom. Minhyuk had the sense to push the door behind him and lock it before they tumbled onto Myungjun’s bed. Minhyuk also had the sense to turn on some music — jazz, which he liked for some reason, loud and brassy and sensuous — really loud in case someone came home early, and Myungjun thought he heard the Minhyuk whistle when Myungjun peeled off his own shirt, but he didn’t care, because then Minhyuk was kissing him again, and they could be together and have each other, and it was wonderful.

“Love you,” Minhyuk murmured. “Myungjunnie.”

“Love you too,” Myungjun replied, and kissed him again.


End file.
